Started With a Lie
by CatWoman123
Summary: MajorAU! At first, it was all about revenge. Quinn Fabray speaks a lie explaining that she is the girlfriend of the notorious Richard Corcoran.Who's Richard Corcoran? Well, he's one of the richest, a youngest—millionaires, it's all fun and games and Quinn is getting away with the lie till.. Rick himself contacts her for the lie, one lie started everything. Faberry Genderswap!Rachel
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary : **__**At first, it was all about revenge. To get back at her ex-best friend Harmony for stealing the first boy she's ever truly liked, Quinn Fabray speaks a lie explaining that she is the girlfriend of the notorious Richard Corcoran. Who is Richard Corcoran? Well, he's one of the richest—not to mention youngest—millionaires in the world. At least one product in your home is made by him, or at least one time you've stayed at one of his hotels. Now, it's all fun and games and Quinn is getting away with the lie until . . . Rick himself contacts her for the lie. What started as a little drama between two girls and one guy, extends to everything Quinn's ever known. Through a series of fights, secrets, deals, rules that eventually break, and trusting the wrong people, Quinn learns why lying will never get you anywhere.**_

_**Warning: Genderswap!MajorAU!etc!**_

"Hey, Quinn, can you pass the orange juice?" Mom asks me, her hand outstretched.

"Here," I say, passing her the container of orange juice. I continue to eat my cereal, but steal a glance at her.

I can never get over how she looks almost exactly like me – except a little older. Her face has some paint splattered on it, and the apron she wears all the time has the fresh smell of paint.

My mom's an artist.

She spends ninety percent of the day in her studio – working on new masterpieces to help pay off the bills. Of course, I have a job too. I won't let mom do all the work. Especially not after my dad passed away a couple years ago. Since then, all the bills have been weighed on her shoulders. But since I'm seventeen now, I can help her with a part-time job of my own.

I'm proud of my mom. She was strong even when my father passed away.

She smiles at me and finishes her toast. After breakfast, she'll probably go back to her studio. She only comes out for meals, or if I was home and needed her for something.

I'm cool with it though. Mom loves what she does. Her hazel eyes – the same ones I inherited – twinkle whenever she is in her studio. If my mom is happy, I am too.

"So, isn't today the first day of senior year?" She asked me, taking a sip of her orange juice. A golden curl of her hair falls out from her bun. She pushes it behind her ear. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes, and yes," I responded. I take a spoonful of my cereal and stare at it. My stomach really isn't helping. It's all jittery. It happens every time I get nervous. "Do you thing I'll be okay?"

"Honey, you've survived the last three years – you can do it again."

"But this is my last year and I'm really nervous," I tell her. Also because of all the drama last year, I secretly add.

She reaches over the table and pats my hand. "You'll do fine." Mom looks at her watch. "Look at the time! You're going to be late!"

I grab all my belongings, my backpack, sweater, and phone. I run from the kitchen to the living room of our small two-story home and slip on my sneakers. There is a small mirror next to the door that mom had put so we could see if we look okay before we head out. It's mostly because she forgets she has been working in her studio and has paint all over her.

Since it is the first day, I am wearing a new top and a fresh pair of jeans that I bought on my mini-shopping spree when I had saved enough money over the summer. My frizzy, uncontrollable golden blonde is straightened completely. But, no matter how much I try, my hazel eyes pop out compared to my pale – tan much needed – skin.

"Bye, mom!" I yell as I open the front door. "Don't loose track of time and forget to eat each lunch!" Sometimes, I would come home and find her dazed in her work – just as I'd left her in the morning.

"I won't!" She yells back. "Have fun at school!"

I close the door. Like having fun at school is even possible, I think as I lock the door. The air is chilly and the wind is blowing leaves off the trees in the front yard. I escape to the safety of my Honda Civic. Autumn is already starting.

Radio pop songs boom from the speakers of my car as I drive to Brownwood High. People already have crowded the parking lot. I find a place to park. Brownwood, New York is a small town where everyone knows everyone since birth. One scandal here and you get judged for life.

* * *

><p>"Quinn! How was your summer?" Someone says as I get out of my car.<p>

I would know that voice anywhere.

"Hey, San!" I say as I slam my car door shut. Santana – or San – or S is the only person that knows what happened last year and still continues to be my friend. "My summer was great! Brent went to college so I finally have the house to myself on the weekends."

Brent is my nineteen-year-old brother. He can be nice when he wants and he can be nasty when he wants. Unfortunately, I've seen both sides. He went to some college in Florida – wonders how he even got in with his grades. He'd have loud, stupid parties every weekend when mom went to galleries in other states.

But now I'm finally free.

"You mean your cute brother?" Santana pouts. "I'm going to miss him." She holds some big, thick textbooks close to her chest. Santana is one of the smartest people I know – despite her deceiving name.

"Ew," I scrunch up my face in disgust. She also has always had a crush on Brent – if that's humanely possible. "What do you see in my brother?" I swing my backpack strap over my shoulder and walk side by side with her.

"He's everything I dream of," she sighs.

I put my hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Let's not get too overrated. I don't want to throw up my breakfast." She was about to say something back when the bell suddenly rings. I grab San's hand. "Hurry! We can't be late on the first day!" We run to homeroom, take our seats, and start gossiping about the latest couples that hooked up in the summer.

"Well, well," a sly voice says. "Look who we have here."

I don't need to see who it is to recognize that voice. It's the voice of my ex-best friend. Harmony. I scold myself to not look up – to ignore her. To stay uninvolved with her like the guidance counselor told me to.

But I look up anyway.

There, she stands, all perfect and pretty in her bright floral sundress. It hugs her every curve. I take notice that she has cut her dark raven hair. It's now up to her chin. Most people can't pull off the short hair look, but she's not most people. Her haircut makes her face look even more round and innocent looking.

But I know it's all just a mask.

"Hi, Harmony." I greet her, offering a small smile. Another thing my guidance counselor said to do. Offer an occasional smile or to say "hi".

"Hello, Quinn." She smiles – acting like the two-faced person she is. But I know better than to trust her looks. "How was your summer?" I'm just about to answer when she cuts me off. "Mine was great. Sam – you know Sam, the good-looking guy that I'm dating? – Well, we went on the most romantic dates!"

I grip the edge of my seat. She knows I know who Sam is. Heck, Sam and I basically have known each other our whole lives. She also knows that he's my weak spot. I had liked Sam. And apparently, she had too.

"Oh, Sam?" I say. "I don't know any Sam."

I watch as the smirk fades from her face. I can't believe this is the person that I was best friends with for seven years. I used to tell her everything – from secrets to crushes. Everything. Like last year, when I told her I liked Sam. I also told her I'd been crushing on him for three years. But obviously, she didn't care if she went behind my back and hooked up with him anyways.

The betrayal was unexpected.

Since that, she started hanging out with the "popular" kids – she even picked on me in front of others.

I had no idea why either.

I had enough one day and slammed her face into the wall somewhere in the last few months of junior year. We got into a huge fight and earned warnings from the principal – who let us off because we had never gotten in trouble before. Principal Figgins also made us each see a guidance counselor to "solve our emotional issues that our teenage hormones were causing".

After that, my popularity kind of zoomed up. I was the good girl who randomly punched Harmony. But it wasn't random. Only I knew that though. She acts all nice and beautiful in front of others but me, she's pure evil.

"Just ignore this bitch Q." Santana's voice snapped me back to reality.

Harmony leans closer to my desk. "Don't play dumb," she whispered. "Though you don't need to pretend to act dumb."

Santana rolls her eyes muttering something I couldn't hear perfectly. "Excuse me?" I asked getting back to Harmony who still has that smirk on her face.

"Just ask your father – he got himself killed."

"Hey, back off!" Santana pushed her back, I didn't notice it though, anger rages inside me. There are boundaries – lines – thing that tell us when we're going too far. And that was definitely way too far. She knows what happened to my father – and yet here she is trash talking him. Bitch.

"Pardon?" I grip the table to fight the urge to strangle her. "She's not worth it." Santana – who I almost forgot is right next to me – pats my shoulder. I try some breathing exercises – also another thing my guidance counselor told me to practice.

"You heard me. You're dumb… just like your father." She keep on taunting. "Bitch, I said back the fuck off!" Santana hissed, standing up and pushing her once more. "This is none of your concern Lopez, I suggest you mind your own business." Harmony says as she pushed San back. That's it. I don't take crap from nobody. Especially when it's about people I love. I stand up and push the desk back – causing everybody to look over here. The teacher isn't in the room yet. All eyes are on me.

"Oooh! Another catfight!" someone hollers.

"Fight, fight!" someone else screams, and soon everybody joins in.

Harmony stands there, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. This is what she wants. To humiliate me – make a fool out of myself. I won't let her win.

Just then, Sam walks in – one of my closest friends, who chose Harmony over me. His eyes widen when he sees what's happening. It looks like he's rushing over to me, but quickly changes directions and heads to Harmony's side. Like always. His eyes send me an apology.

I glare at him, I saw San also send him a death glare muttering something like trouty mouth under hear breath.

"Harmony, what's going on?" Sam asks, putting an arm around her.

She glares at me for a couple more seconds before replying, "Nothing." Harmony snuggles into Sam's arms. Something inside my stomach churns.

She's just trying to get to me, I tell myself. "Well trouty mouth, if you must know your girlfriend here just couldn't keep her little mouth to herself, please keep her on the line next time." Harmony was about to retort but I cut her off and put my hand on Santana's shoulder telling her the same thing she told me earlier. That she's not worth it. I shouldn't get in trouble on the first day and she shouldn't either. Certainly not because of her. Before anything else can happen, Mr. Hopkins – our teacher walks in and makes everyone take a seat.

San nudges my side. "You okay?" she whispers. Mr. Hopkins is writing out his name on the board.

I nod and give her a small smile. "I'll be just fine. Thanks S," She nodded and smiles back. I'm thankful that Santana's a real friend unlike certain person.

* * *

><p>Classes go by in a blur. The teachers had just mostly introduced themselves and tried to pronounce everybody's names correctly. Currently, I am sitting at lunch, staring at mush – supposedly pasta and meatballs – but I don't see the meatballs or the pasta, for that matter.<p>

Santana slides in the seat across from me. "The new math teacher is so young!" she exclaims. "And good looking. Did you go to his class yet?"

"Yeah," I replied. "He's decent."

"Decent?" she echoes. "Hello! He's like a Greek god."

I laugh at that. "I'll be sure to tell Brent you're over him now. Thank god."

She suddenly waves her hands in the air, cheeks red. "No, no, no! I still like Brent. Just saying the math teacher is cute."

I laugh some more. Teasing Santana is always fun.

A girl with lots of zits and tons of makeup suddenly walks to our table with a black girl following next to her. I recognize her as Ketsy, the gossip queen of the school. She's always yapping away – talking about something along with her best friend Mercedes. "Did you guys hear?"

"Hear what?" San asks, stabbing the mush on her lunch tray.

"Sam is having a party – his usual year starting party. It's going to be by Brownwood Lake. Everyone is invited. Everyone will be there. Well I will be there and Mercy too." She pointed to herself and the girl next to her. "Are you?" She asked.

That's right! Sam always has a party on the first day of school – even if it's a Tuesday or any other day. I don't even consider mom letting me go. Letting me go to a party is one thing, but going to party on a school night is another.

Besides, do I even want to go? It is Sam's party.

… And where Sam goes, Harmony will follow.

"Yeah!" San chirps. "We'll see you there!" Ketsy and Mercy nods and walks to other tables to spread out the news. "Are you going, Quinn?"

I groan. "Do I have to? I don't even know if mom will let me."

"Of course you have to go!" She sips her apple juice. "This is our last year of high school. We need to live the entire high school experience!"

I think about it for a second. What she says is true. At the end of this year, everybody will separate and go to different colleges. This might be the last year to really know whom you've been going to high school for the last four years with.

San smiles at me, knowing that I'm on the verge of going. "Fine," I say, giving up. "But I still have to ask my mom."

She squeals. "Great!" She taps her chin. "What should we wear? Should we wear sexy-but-not-a-slut or cute-but-attractive?"

I shrug and she starts going into an entire conversation on outfits and the latest trends. I zone out as always and nod in the right places. My mind wanders of somewhere else – on someone else.

_Sam will be there tonight._

* * *

><p><em><strong>YESS! This is actually my first story here lol so bare with me please XD<br>SO what you guys think? Should I continue or NOT? Let me know –winks-**_

_**a/n: Well in case you don't already know. Richard is Rachel**__** (obviously)**__**, Brent is Brittany, and Ketsy is Kurt! Anyways I hope you guys like it. Reviews would be appreciated! Until next time people!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Yep another Chap!**_

_**I received a few messages asking why swap so many of them characters well to answer your question, it's just the way I like it to be so enjoy this chapter and thank you for your reviews though, glad some people like it ^^**_

* * *

><p>"This Rick Corcoran dude is <em>so<em> loaded!" Santana exclaims as she flips through a magazine. I don't pay attention to what she's saying. I continue to search through my closet for something decent to wear for tonight.

Sam's party is in one hour.

I have showered, dried my hair, and am currently in my strawberry pajamas searching for something to wear. "Come help me!" I turn around to face her. I notice piles and piles of clothes on my bedroom floor. I didn't realize I've been doing that.

"Come here first," Santana said, waving her hand over. "Come check out this Richard Corcoran dude." I frown at her. "I promise I'll you afterwards."

"Fine," I say as I walk over and plop down on my bed next to her. Some kind of popular magazine is open on a page with a rich looking man on it. In the picture, he's wearing a fine tailored suit and he's holding his tie – like he's trying to loosen it. His hair is disheveled on purpose. But it doesn't matter.

He's gorgeous.

"Can you believe it?" Santana asked. "He's _only_ twenty and yet he owns his own business and everything. He's a _billionaire_. Any girl would be lucky to be dating him."

"Twenty?" I ask. "That's impossible. He can't just build a business so quickly. He has to at least finish college first. It doesn't make sense."

"Oh, he didn't make his company. I heard his father died last year and he's an only child so he had to take over so the company wouldn't fail."

"Poor guy," I say, getting off the bed. I pick up all the clothes that scattered on the floor.

"_Poor guy_?" Santana says. "He turned into the youngest billionaire!"

"I would rather have my father than money," I tell her. She shuts up knowing my father is a sensitive topic. An awkward silence passes by. I try to lighten the mood. "Come help me pick something to wear now."

Santana hops off my bed. She picks up a green dress from the floor. "You should wear this." She throws it at me. "It'll match your eyes."

"Thanks," I grin. I take the dress from her and strip. We've been friends for a long time, so it's not weird to change in front of each other. I zip up the dress and turn to her. "What do you think?"

She looks up from her magazine. "Totally hot." Santana winks. "What about me?" She stands up. "How do I look?"

"Fab_u_lous," I say. She's in a hot pink dress and red hells. Her wavy raven hair is left the way it os. I walk over to the mirror. I haven't worn this since my aunt's wedding. I apply make-up and straighten my golden-blonde hair.

An hour passes full of make-up and hair straightening.

"Where are you guys going?" Mom asks when San and I are grabbing our coats. She's getting a coffee mug – the reason why she's out of her studio. Mom didn't come out because she heard me leaving. She wouldn't even realize if her house were on fire.

I turn to her. I was hoping she wouldn't come out. Now, I have to ask permission to go to the party – which she'll probably say no to. "A party?" I say it like a question.

I see her eyebrow perks up, "A party?" She asks. "What kind of party?"

"You know," I wave my hand around, "just a casual party." Santana nods in agreement next to me.

Mom eyed us suspiciously. "A party? On a school night? On the first day of school?" She sets her mug down. "Oh I don't think so, sweetie."

"But, mom!" I complain. "We're already dressed and ready and I'll be back soon! I promise!" I said as I grab my mom's elbow and shake it. "Please, mom! _Pleeease!_"

She sips her coffee with her other hand. "No."

"Mom!" I whine. I stomp my foot like a little toddler, I noticed Santana trying to hold her laughter seeing me like this but I pay her no mind. "Please! I'll do anything, mom! I'll do chores and everything! Please! Please!"

She thinks about it for a second. Mom looks over to San. "Are you going too?"

"Yeah Judy, please?" San nods, joins in to help. Mom turns back to me, "Will there be alcohol?"

She's on the verge of letting me go. I know it. "No," I lie. "No alcohol and even of there is – I won't drink it." Now that's the truth. San snorted and I stomp on her feet. "Hey!" She hissed but I pay her no attention as I keep my eyes on my mom.

Seconds pass.

"Fine," Mom sighs. "But if anything happens, you are grounded for the rest of eternity. Okay?"

I nod ferociously. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I tackle her and she has to grip the island counter from falling over. I kiss her cheek. "I love you so much, mom! I slide my coat on and grab my car keys.

"Be back soon, you hear?" Mom yells as I'm opening the front door. "If you're one minute past curfew, you are scrubbing this house spotless tomorrow!"

"Okay!" I yell back. "Love you, bye!"

"Bye Ms F!" San yells next to me. I see mom smile before I close the door.

Santana and I walk to my car. The cold air nips at my bare legs. It feels like my legs are freezing – but it's worth it since I look nice. We turn the heat on full blast when we get inside my Honda.

"Can't believe Judy let you go," San says as she rubs her hands together to keep warm. She grins. "We almost got caught for a second though."

"Yea I know, thanks to you." I responded sarcastically. "Hey!" She protested. I ignore her, turning the car around a corner. I've nailed the directions to Sam's house in my brain. I've gone so many times to his house in the past that it's like the back of my hand to me.

I park the car near a tree. Sam's house is at the end of a dead end street so there's plenty of room for cars to park. And they already have. There's about fifty cars already parked out. I get out of my car with San and we inch closer to the house.

I can feel the ground vibrating from the loud music. Cheers and yells are thrown around in the air. Every room in his house is lit up. People are on the porch, talking and drinking out of red cups. Some are on the lawn.

"It's so crowded!" San yells over the music at me.

"I know!" I agree as we push through sweaty bodies. I feel like gagging as I smell some people who obviously forgot to put on some deodorant. _Ew_, the sofas and all furniture are pushed up against the walls where some people sit on them. I tap San and point to the kitchen.

After slipping between billions of people, we escape to the kitchen where there are only a few people lingering around. At least there's room to breathe. The familiar face from lunch walks over to us.

I think Ketsy is her name.

"Hey guys!" Ketsy says. "You made it!"

I nod while San exclaims, "Yep! It's so loud and crowded!"

"That's why it's fun though," Mercedes chipped in walking towards us. "Are _you_ guys having fun?" She asked.

San nods in excitement. "It's great! Sam's house is so big! And where are his parents? Shouldn't they be around?"

"Yeah, they're on business like usual. Sam told all the servants and maids to take a day off so he could throw this party and get away with it."

San's jaw drops. "Really?"

"Genius, isn't it?" says Ketsy. Mercy and her just about to yap some more when someone calls their name. "Oh we got to go. Have fun! Let's chat later! Come on Mer!"

"Okay," I say. They disappears into the sweaty sea of bodies. I feel sorry for them. "So, now what do we do?" I ask Santana.

She's perched on top of the island counter in the kitchen. "Let's go dance!"

I shake my head. "No way."

She pouts. "Please?" I shake my head. "Come on Q!" I still shake my head. "Fine. I'll go dance alone."

"I'll be over by the couches." I tell her, smiling gratefully.

She glares at me before disappearing into the same place Ketsy and Mercy had gone to. I stalk away from the kitchen and squeeze my way through slimy bodies to get to an open seat on the couch. I breathe a sigh of relief of being able to sit down.

I look around.

Girls are wearing some dresses and skirts while guys were casual clothes. _At least I dressed appropriately_, I think as I run my eyes over random people. I can't see San at all from where I'm sitting.

The music suddenly stops and feedback from a microphone echoes throughout the living room. Everybody groans at the screech.

Someone taps the microphone. I look up. It's Sam. "Hey everyone! Hope you're having a good time! Thanks for coming out to my annual party! Enjoy you guys!" He says. "Alright, now I'm going to let the DJ bring it back up."

Everybody shouts and cheers and screams Sam's name. he takes a dramatic theatrical bow and jumps off the DJ stand. The music pumps back up over the speakers. Sam looks over the crowd – maybe checking to see if anyone has broken anything yet.

His gaze lands on me.

I don't realize I'm staring back until he's walking over to me. I dart my eyes in panic and sweats fills my palms. _What do I do? What do I do?_

"Hi," he says as he plops down on the seat next to me.

"Hi," I squeak like a mouse.

"I didn't know you'd be coming," he says, grinning. A grin that makes my insides turn. The same grin I'd used to fall for every time … and I still do.

"Well," I say, "everyone _was_ invited."

"Oh, yeah, I didn't mean I was going to un-invite you," he rambles. "I just meant, you know – forget it." He runs a hand through his blonde hair. "Are you enjoying the party?"

I nod. "It's great."

Suddenly, a pair of hands wraps around Sam's neck from behind and someone hugs him. She starts kissing up his neck.

It's Harmony, of course.

I cough a little to let her know I'm sitting _right_ there.

"Oh, hi, Quinn," she says as if she just noticed I was there. "Didn't see you there." Harmony moves from behind Sam and sits on his lap. "Hi babe."

Sam looks uncomfortable. "H – Hey, Harmony."

She starts kissing up his neck again. Bile urges itself up my mouth. Sam doesn't respond to Harmony. He just sits there. His eyes are darting everywhere but me and his cheeks are tinted red.

He looks _really_ awkward and uncomfortable.

"Harmony," I say. "Maybe you should get off of him. I'm trying to have a conversation here. Or at least get a room."

She looks – no glares at me. "Maybe _you_ should back off."

"Excuse me?" I say raising my perfect eyebrow. "I haven't done _anything_. I'm pretty sure nobody wants to see you kissing up to Sam."

She sighs in a bored way and then gets up. Harmony hovers over me. She almost stumbles over and I realize that she's partly drunk. "Listen here, Quinn." She says, dangling her index finger in the air. "Back off from my boyfriend."

I glare at her. "First of all, I'm not even touching your boyfriend. _You're_ the one slobbering over him." I state.

Harmony looks irritated. Suddenly she walks away. I'm confused for a moment. Why would she randomly just walk away? Harmony _never_ walks away without a fight.

"Attention everyone." The music stops and everybody turns to Harmony who has stopped the music and holds the microphone in her hand. Now I get it. She walks back over to me. "This bitch here thinks _I _should back off from my own boyfriend. Isn't she crazy?"

Everyone shouts in agreement. I glare at Harmony.

"Not when you're basically just licking him while he's just sitting there," I mutter but my voice is caught on the microphone.

Everybody goes, "_Oooooh_."

I feel more confident.

"We;; you're just jealous," Harmony yells. "I mean I know you liked Sam, but those days are over, honey. He is _not_ interested. He's with me." Sam looks cherry red in the corner.

I feel a small blush coming on as well.

I push it back. I grab the microphone. "Why would I be jealous?" I laugh as high and mighty as I can. I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm not even trying to speak. The words are just coming out. "I have the most perfect boyfriend. Even better than Sam."

Harmony sneers and takes the microphone back. "Who?" She's crossing her arms in disbelief.

… _Okay, I didn't even think this far into the plan_. My mind goes blank and I try to dig up any name. Any fake name. Any real name. Just anyone. The room is quiet for a while and when a voice echoes off the walls, I don't realize it's me.

"I'm dating Rick Corcoran," I tell her, crossing my arms to hide my trembling fingers. My fingers always shake when I lie.

"You mean Richard Corcoran, the world's youngest billionaire and heir to Corcoran Corporation and its long line of businesses?" She scoffs. "Sure you are."

"That's the one," I beam, trying to make myself sound firm and authentic.

It takes a moment for my mind to render what I've just done. _WHAT HAVE I JUST DONE?_ I mentally scold and yell at myself. This is even worse than humiliation. They're obviously not going to believe me. I curse at myself for being such an idiot.

How could I say I'm dating someone as rich and hot as Rick Corcoran?

It doesn't even sound believable to my own ears.

I feel like slamming my head against a wall again and again. I have got to be the world's largest idiot.

Harmony's eyes are wide for a second – as is everyone else's – but she quickly covers it up wit a dull expression. She brings the microphone closer to her lips.

"Prove it."

_**Bam! What will happen? What will Quinn do?**_

_**Haha… Find out next time in …. Started With a Lie!**_

_**Don't forget to review! BYEBYE xD**_


	3. Chapter 3

"_Prove it_."

Three weeks since the party. Three weeks since my little white lie. Three weeks since I've been trying to dodge everyone. Three weeks of misery.

It's October now and I'm in homeroom.

"Okay, class! That's the end of this lesson," Mr. Hopkins yells from the front of the class. Everybody starts packing their books up. "Hold on, don't pack up just yet."

Everybody groans.

"Remember we're going on a fieldtrip tomorrow," he continues, "to New York City. We are going to be visiting Time Square and the Statue of Liberty to learn about the history of it. Make sure you bring back the permission slips by tomorrow morning or you won't be coming! Class dismissed."

People get up and leave the room. I forgot to give the slip to Mr. Hopkins this morning. I rummage through my bag to find it.

Santana turns to me from her seat. "We're going to New York City! Times Square! Can you believe it?"

I shake my head and smile. Maybe it's good that this is happening. It could give me some time to take my mind off of… _other things_. I pass my permission slip to Mr. Hopkins and grab my bag as the bell rings.

This has been my routine; never get to class too early, and never get out of class too late. People always randomly ask me questions about Richard Corcoran. Even adults and teachers I don't know! Apparently, the entire senior year and some of the underclassmen were at the party – things got spread around fast.

_I'm an idiot_, I think as I open my locker and dump all my books in. this never would have happened if I just shut up and stayed out of Harmony's way. She's always trying to bring me down.

The hallways are crowded as people get their things to go home. I shove my way through and get to the parking lot. Reaching my Honda, I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm just about to open the car door when a flash goes off.

I shield my eyes from the bright light. Another flash goes off.

"Stop!" I protest. I blink and regain my vision. A middle-aged man is standing in front of me with an expensive looking camera. I'm confused. "Can I help you?"

He grins, wrinkles forming near his eyes and mouth. "Hi, Jacob Ben Israel." He takes my hand and shakes it. "Famous reporter."

"Um," I say. "That's great?" I pull my hand back and stuff it in my jacket pocket. I slowly inch away from the man. He could be a fake weirdo who takes pictures of teenage girls and then kidnaps them or something. Then he must chop them up and sell the body parts.

Okay, _maybe_ I'm exaggerating.

But, I'm still not going to take to some creepy stranger. I back away but he yells, "Stop!" He puts his hands up in defense. "Hold on. I just want to talk to you about something important, and then I'll be gone."

I slowly nod, urging him to go on. "Yes?"

"Are you dating Richard Corcoran?"

My knees wobble. _No, no, no, _I tell myself. _This is not happening. No way that the news could've gotten this far. Not all the way to the media._

"Quinn?" the reporter says when I don't respond.

"How do you know my name?" I ask, my throat feeling like it's closing up.

Before he can answer, Harmony shows up out of nowhere. "Oh, Quinn, hi. I told him your name. this reporter is a friend of my dad's, and I just told him the latest gossip. I mean, who _shouldn't_ know about you and Richard?"

So it was _her_ doing.

I fix my expression quickly – leaving no sign of anxiety. I force a fake smile. "Oh, of course, Harmony. I'll answer some questions for you. No biggie." I definitely wasn't going to let Harmony get the chance of catching me lying.

Her eyebrow twitches in anger. The reporter moves her aside and focuses the camera on me. "So, are you dating Richard Corcoran?"

I grin for the camera. "Yes. Yes, I am."

* * *

><p>An hour passes full of questions and photos. I am driving home now. Jacob, the reporter, just asked some questions about how we meet and how we fell in love.<p>

I lied, of course.

And it felt horrible. I pray that he's not as famous as he says he is. I pray that if he ever publishes that interview, that people won't read it in his magazine.

I grip the steering wheel harder as I drive down my street. I get to the driveway of my house and park my car. The air is chilly and the green leaves of summer have turned to orange and red leaves of autumn.

Maybe mom could help.

"Mom, I'm home!" I yell when I open the front door even though I know she'll be too busy painting to hear me. I pick up some envelopes left by the door by the mailman and bring them inside. Throwing them on the kitchen table, I go check on mom.

She's in her studio working on some waterfall painting.

I love her studio. It has baby blue paint on all three of the walls. The last, wall has mom _own_ paintings of people's faces, landscapes, and nature. Every color just painted with love and ease.

I'm jealous of mom.

She has a talent. She can draw, paint, and make ugly things look so beautiful. Everybody has a talent… except me. I can't draw, or play sports, or cook. Nothing.

I frown as I think of this.

"Oh, Quinn!" Mom exclaims when she notices me. "Just on time!" she ushers me over to her painting. Her face has blue flecks of paint as well as her arms and apron. "What do you think?"

I look at her painting.

It's a waterfall that's hidden deep within the forest by trees. Birds fly in the distance and the sky is a beautiful blue. Small land animals wander around trees and the wind blows leaves off the trees.

"It's beautiful," I say. It really is.

Mom smiles, "You think?" She picks up the painting from the easel and puts it down against the wall to let it dry. Mom wipes her hands off a towel nearby and then turns back to me. "So, how was school?"

"Great!" I lie. I follow her out of her studio and we head into the kitchen. I grab an apple out from the bowl that is placed on the island counter. "School's just wonderful, mom."

"Really?" She asks, raising her eyebrows. She takes a seat at the island. "What's really going on, Quinn?"

There's a crunch sound when I bite into the apple. I chew slowly. I put the apple down. "Mom," I start, "is it bad to lie?"

She looks caught off for a second. "Of course, honey. I taught you this when you were four." She sits back in her chair then suddenly almost jumps out of her chair. "Why? Did you lie about something bad? Like robbing a store?"

"What? No!" I exclaim. "You know I wouldn't do that." But she sighs in relief anyways. "I just told… a small lie."

She stares at me. "Um, what kind of lie?"

"Just a small, er, white lie?" I say. I brace myself.

She looks at me. "Honey, you didn't do anything harmful to anyone, right? No gossip? You _know_ we can't deal with that again. You almost got suspended last year – it can't happen again."

This shut me up. I obviously can't tell mom now.

"Of course not, mom!" I chirp. "I just forgot to tell you that instead of getting an A plus in History, I got a A minus." I laugh it off like a joke. There goes _another_ lie to cover up my other one.

"Phew," She says, sighing and clutching her heart. "Had me worried for a second."

"Yep," I say. "Nothing to worry about here." I force a smile. "I'm going to go work on some homework now, okay? Call me out when dinner's ready."

"Of course," she says.

I hop off the stool, grab my bag, and jog to my room. I throw my backpack on my bed as soon as I reach it. I close my door. Picking up a pillow, I start screaming into it. _I'm in a deep mess_.

A piano tune starts playing. My phone.

I throw my pillow back on my bed and grab my phone out my pocket. I flip it open. "Hello?"

"Quinn!" Santana yells. "Quinn! Oh, thank god you're okay."

"Um," I start, "of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" A shiver runs down my spine. Something's wrong.

She sighs. "You mean you haven't seen it yet?" I stay quiet. She takes my silence as a no. "It's everywhere, Q. Go on your computer right now! Every source says you're in a relationship with Rick Corcoran.

"What!" I scream. I cover my mouth hoping mom didn't hear. Immediately, I scurry over piles of dirty clothes on the floor and take a seat at my desk. I fire up my computer.

"Do you know what happened?" San asks over the phone. "How did this information get out? I thought you said only our high school and our town knew."

"That's right." I say. Then, I pause and think. Jacob. The reporter. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

"What's wrong?" She asks.

"I might've, could've, maybe slipped it to a reporter." My computer starts and I immediately get on the search browser and go through the trending topics. _Richard Corcoran wins over another business. Justin Bieber pregnant? Rick Corcoran dating small-town girl? _I click the third trending topic.

"What!" Now, Santana screams. "Why? How?"

"I'm sorry!" I plead. "Harmony was standing right there and I didn't know what to do. I didn't want her to find out I was lying." The article opens up on the computer. "Hold on."

I read over the article.

_ Richard Corcoran, big time billionaire, dating a small-town girl, Quinn Fabray_

_ Quinn Fabray, a girl from small-town Brownwood, New York is supposedly dating Richard Corcoran – one of the youngest and most handsome billionaires to live in this world today. How did this happen? Well, fellow reporter Jacob Ben Israel from Teen Gossip had caught up with Quinn just this afternoon. It is said that if they last – they could be bigger than any other famous couple in the world today._

There's a picture of me next to the article. My eyes are half closed and I look like a person that's high. How I hate cameras.

Below the article are the questions I answered for Jacob. I groan. I should've gotten into my car when I had the chance. This is entirely my fault. If only I didn't let Harmony bother me so much.

"Hello?" San says from the other line. "You still there? Did you read the articles?"

"Yes," I sigh.

"It's already number three for most trending topics! Imagine it by tomorrow morning. You're going to be famous, Q!" Santana exclaims like it's a good thing. "You'll be the next big thing."

I groan even more. "This is _horrible_. How do I fix this?"

"How you think Rick will react?" San suddenly says. "I mean, he _is_ famous and everything. He probably catches up to recent gossip. What if he gets mad and ships you off to Siberia? Where you'll freeze to death with tigers?" She continues to ramble.

"Listen," I interrupt, "I got to go. I need to read more of the articles. I'll see you tomorrow for the fieldtrip, okay?"

"Okay," Santana chirps. "I'm here if you need me."

I smile. "Thanks." I put the phone down after hanging up and search similar articles. I scan them quickly and even read the comments. Most comments are saying how surprised are the people.

Others are rage and hateful comments.

I read over comments saying why he'd date an ugly girl like me when he could have anyone he wanted. I read how this must all be a scam for publicity. I read them all.

I prop my elbows on the desk and put my head between my hands. I close my eyes.

_I never meant things to get this far_, I say over and over in my head. I stay like this for a couple of minutes before my phone's piano tune rings throughout my room again.

It must be Santana.

"What?" I say when I pick it up, my eyes still closed. My head is throbbing from a headache. Nobody's speaking. I can hear breathing though. "Hello?"

There's a cough on the other side. "Hello." _That _isn't Santana, definitely _not_. It's a deep, silky voice. The same type of voice that doctors use before they stab you with needles.

I jolt up. "Hello? Who is this?" I check caller ID but it says "Unknown."

"Hello miss," the person says. "I am Richard Corcoran."

"Shit," I blurted out.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yep! Another chapter.<strong>_

_**And, hehee, a cliffhanger. Oh how I love keeping people at the edge of their seats. Anyway, I hoped you like this.**_

_**Well Reviews please xD**_

_**Thank you BYEBYE!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**There's a cough on the other side. "Hello." That isn't Santana, definitely not. It's a deep, silky voice. The same type of voice that doctors use before they stab you with needles.**_

_**I jolt up. "Hello? Who is this?" I check caller ID but it says "Unknown."**_

_**"Hello miss," the person says. "I am Richard Corcoran."**_

_**"Shit," I blurted out.**_

* * *

><p>I fall off my chair. I'm not exaggerating.<p>

"Hello?" He says. "Hello? Miss Quinn?"

I grip the fabric of my jeans as I sit on the hardwood floor. I feel sweat tricking down the nape of my neck even though it's chilly. I still can't believe Richard Corcoran is on the other line. _What do I say? _I think.

"Hello? Is this the correct number?"

I find my voice finally. "Hi." I fumble with a hole in my jeans around my knee. "Sorry for my… foul language." I'm referring to cursing. I first said when I first realized I was talking to him, I don't know how to speak. Should I speak formally? He isn't even _that _older.

He laughs a deep laugh. "It's okay."

I swoon. His laugh sounds like angels singing. I compose myself. "Um… I'm Quinn Fabray." I get back up and sit on my chair. "How can I help you?"

I stick with a business-like tone. He must be use4d to that.

"Well, this is Richard Corcoran," he repeats. "I just want to confront you on some things that I've been hearing." I freeze. "Something about… you and I stated in some sort of relationship?"

"A-About t-that," I stutter. "Listen, I can explain –"

"Can you?" He asks. He doesn't wait for my response. "That'll be great then. I've done some research and it seems you're going on an overnight field trip tomorrow? To New York? Am I correct, Miss Fabray?"

"Y-Yes." Where's he going with this?

"Lovely," he says, a smile in his tone. "One of my current office is in New York City. I will see you there."

I pause… for one, two, three seconds. "B-But, I can't visit you." I need an excuse. "I'm on a fieldtrip. My teachers would never let me wander from my group."

And in just that moment, mom yells, "Quinnie! Time for dinner!"

I groan, hoping he didn't hear.

I hear Richard chuckle from the other side. _Jerk_. "I think it's time for you to go, _Quinnie_." I squeeze my eyes in embarrassment. "And to answer you, I will speak to your school board. I think there will be an exception for this situation. And if not, I shall visit you personally."

"But – "

The line goes dead. I stare at my phone. He just hung up on me. _Rude much? Then again, I kind of spread rumors about him_, I think as I flip my phone shut and toss it on my bed. I pull my blonde hair up into a bun and head down to the kitchen where mom is stirring a bowl of something steaming. It smells delicious.

"Hey, mom," I say. I see a chopping board with uncut vegetables and decide to help her. I start to chop some onions and potatoes.

"Oh hey, Quinnie." She smiles turning at me. I groan still helping her with the potatoes and onions, "Please don't call me that."

"Oh, thanks honey. Didn't think I'd have enough time to cut those." Mom turns back to put some onions in the steaming pot completely ignoring me.

"What are you making, anyway?"

"Some stew with some bread rolls," she answers, stirring the mixture. "Are you hungry?"

"Very hungry," I reply. "Tomorrow's my overnight field trip to New York City. We'll be staying for two-three days. Can you help me pack my things after dinner?"

"Oh! I almost forgot about that. Of course."

Mom and I eat our stew and bread rolls in conversation about my first day and her upcoming gallery shows. She tells me about her new paintings and I tell her about cute guys who had a growth spurt over the summer.

We're on dessert when mom says, "You know, I heard something strange today."

I continue to eat my apple pie. "What'd you hear?"

"Something about," she pauses, "you and this guy named Richard Corcoran? Something about you two in a relationship and he's a world class billionaire?"

I jolt up and glance at her. She smirks like she knows just caught a criminal red-handed, literally. "What are you talking about, mom?" I know it won't work. She's already sure about what she heard.

"Now," Mom says, "I don't mind if you're in a relationship." She helps herself for another piece of pie. "But I don't get why you didn't tell me." She takes a bite of her pie, trying to hide her frown. "I wouldn't have been angry."

I set my fork down. "Mom, it's not how it looks."

"I get it, I get it. You're growing up and you're at that stage where you lock your parents and family out and – "

"Mom," I try again.

"I used to be a teenager too. Maybe centuries ago, but still a teenager – "

"Mom!" I exclaim. She finally looks at me. "Listen. You know the lie I was talking about earlier?" She nods. "This is what I meant. You know Harmony?" She nods again. "Yeah well, she's together with Sam now."

"Sam?" She gasps. "I thought _you_ liked Sam."

"Yeah, I know. Well, they're together and she obviously still hates me and I kind of, maybe, could've, just maybe, slipped out by accident, _pure_ accident that I was going out with Richard Corcoran."

Her fork drops to her place. "You what! You told her that?"

I nod. "I didn't mean to lie or do anything so big that it would cause me to be the trending topic on gossip websites. I just panicked and blurted it out because I was pissed at Harmony."

"Oh, honey." She massages her temples, a sign that she's thinking deeply. "And what about Mr. Corcoran? Does he know?"

"Oh, he _knows_." I finish my pie. "In fact, he just called me a few minutes ago."

"He did _what_?"

"He wants to meet me in New York City. Talks things out, you know? I have no idea what to say to him, but I don't care. It's kinda my fault I kind of humiliated him by saying he's dating me." I explain.

"Honey, any man would be _honored_ to date you." She smiles genuinely at me. Mom stands up and gives me a hug. "Just explain things to him, I'm sure he'll understand."

She picks up my plate with hers and brings it to the sink.

"I hope," I whisper.

* * *

><p>Today is the fieldtrip. The day I meet Rick Corcoran, my so-called boyfriend. I look at myself in the long-view mirror in my bedroom. And I am surprisingly, kind of freaking out.<p>

I don't know what brought me to this.

Oh I don't know, maybe the facts that this guy could either humiliate me completely or help me until Harmony believes I'm over Sam. Oh my god, I'm losing my mind and just realize that I'm rambling inside my head. I have to come up with a plan. I'll convince this Richard to cooperate. I don't know how. But I will. I _need_ him for this to work.

I pull down the black skirt until it stops inches about my knee. I'm wearing black stockings to cover up my legs and protect it from the freezing weather lately. I wear a green shirt with sleeves that stop near my elbows. My hair is pulled into a mature looking bun.

I want to look older, not just some high-school student dating Rick Corcoran. I don't want him to mock me. This is also my chance to prove to my classmates that I _really_ am dating him.

Applying some light mascara and a fresh coat of lip-gloss, I finish up and grab my suitcase and bag before heading downstairs. Mom is in her studio. I step inside her studio to say goodbye.

"Mom, I'm leaving."

She turns to look at me, paint already on her hands even though it's early in the morning. Mom beckons me to come over where she's standing. "Do you want me to drive you to school or something?"

I shake my head. "No, it's okay. I just wanted to say goodbye." She opens her arms for a hug and I give in and hugs her. "I'll miss you, mom."

"You too, sweetie." She pulls back and smiles at me. "Make sure you stick with your group and don't get lost. And make sure you call me before go to sleep or text me. Oh! And be careful around strangers – New York City isn't like Brownwood – tons of creeps."

"I will, I will," I assure her. "And you shouldn't skip too many meals. Make sure you clean the house too – it's getting a little messy. Don't get too lost in your artwork."

She laughs. "Of course, sweetie. I'm a mother – I was meant for this." She looks at me head to toe. "Why, don't you look beautiful today. What's the occasion? It couldn't be because it's just a field tripm could it?"

"I'm meeting Richard Corcoran today," I say. "I wanted to look appropriate."

"I see," she says, moving around her studio, gathering some paintbrushes. "Are you going to clear things up with him?"

_Am I? I still need him for my lie_, I think. "Yeah," I lie. It feels terrible lying to mom. "I'm going to clear everything out, mom." I stare down at the handle of my suitcase, looking away from her eyes.

"Good job, honey." She comes over to give me hug, which I return. "I'll miss you, Quinn. Call me when you get to your hotel room, okay?

I nod. "Love you, mom."

"Love you too," she replies. I say a final goodbye before I drag my suitcase and bags outside my Honda. Placing all my things in the trunk, I climb in the driver's seat and head to school.

* * *

><p>The bus leaves at 8:30<p>

It's only eight o'clock. I get to school and drag my suitcase to homeroom. Santana is already there chirpy and fierce as usual. She has _way_ more suitcase than me. There are three large suitcases around her and two duffle bags on her desk.

"You do know we're going for two-to-three days, right?" I ask her as I set my bags down next to her. "Why are you packed up for a year's worth of clothes?"

"What're you talking about?" She innocently says. "I need all of these. I have my hair things in one bag, my clothes in the two suitcases, and shoes in the two duffle bags."

I roll my eyes. "Only you."

She grins. "I'm so excited! I can't wait to see Times Square – and oh! I can't wait to see the Statue of Liberty!" Santana starts jumping and squealing.

"Settle down, class!" Mr. Hopkins yells from the front of the class as he sets his briefcase down on his desk. He has one duffle bag for the trip. I guess men pack light. "The buses are already here. It's a two hour long ride so make sure you have everything you need. Bathrooms _will not_ be available for the next three hours."

People start opening their bags and recounting all their necessities. Some girls leave to go to the bathroom to check their makeup. I stay in my seat and pull out a book to read.

Santana nudges me on the arm and whispers, "Harmony and Sam are here."

I ignore her and keep reading my book. How decent is it that I have the two people I hate the most in _my_ homeroom? I roll my eyes as I continue reading, but two manicured hands slam against my desk.

I sigh. Why can't this _thing_ just say something instead of slamming against my desk _every single time_? "Yes?" I ask without looking up.

"So, Quinn, I heard Rick Corcoran – I mean – your _boyfriend_ is in Times Square right now," Harmony says loudly on purpose so everyone can hear – which works because everyone turns our way. I feel eyes burning against me.

_Stay calm. Stay cool_, I say to myself.

"That's true," I say as calm as I can. "What about it?"

"Well, since we're all your friends here," she says as I scoff, "shouldn't you introduce us to him?"

_Ha, friends_? _Yeah, right_. "Sure, why not?" I say. Harmony's eye twitches at my response. I guess she expected me to stutter and come up with an excuse. _Not today_. Especially not when Rick Corcoran himself called me.

"G-Great!" She exclaims and then stalks off to Sam's side. He sends me a wry smile which I ignore completely before flipping him the finger. He looks a bit taken back before averting his eyes.

I'm done with Sam. I need to get it in my head that he chose _Harmony_ over me. Totally not worth it.

"Alright, kids!" Mr. Hopkins yells. "Time to load the buses! Get all your things!"

* * *

><p>The bus ride is loud and annoying. I sit next to Santana, but she texts Daniel – a guy she's currently interested in – the entire way to New York City. It's fine because I read my book and listen to some music to block out the raucous chatter from my so-called classmates.<p>

New York City is beautiful.

It's bright and lively. People scatter the streets in busy hassles and every building has light spewing out of it. Mr. Hopkins signs us in into a hotel but there seems to be a problem because he keeps arguing with the man at the desk.

Our class doesn't help either – they're still yapping around loudly. I'm sure the desk man would_ love_ to kick us out.

I inch closer to the front of the crowd so I can hear what Mr. Hopkins is arguing about. All I hear is, "Our classroom reserved thirty single rooms!"

"Y-Yes, yes we know, sir," the man replies. His name tag reads _Larry_. What an appropriate name for a man like him. He has too big glasses for his small face and he has a skinny body. "But there are only twenty-five single rooms and two double rooms available."

"Let me see your manager _this_ instant!" Mr. Hopkins roars. I've never seen him so angry – it's pretty scary looking though. I feel bad for Larry.

Larry phones someone and mutters something we can't hear. "He is on his way, sir."

"Mr. Hopkins," a girl from my class says, "I can share with Tina. It's no problem. We don't mind using one of the double rooms."

"Yeah!" another girl named Kitty says. "I'll use the double room with Marley. We have no problem sharing."

"Thank you, girls." Mr. Hopkins says. "But one student will have to _still_ share with one of you. There's enough rooms for twenty-nine students – but where will one extra student sleep?"

It's silent now. Nobody wants to have extra in their room.

"I'll go," I say. "I don't mind sleeping on the floor of one of the rooms." Everyone turns to me. "Really, it's alright. I don't need a high class bed to sleep on. I just need a blanket and a pillow or two."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Hopkins asks.

"Yep, it's okay."

"It's _not_ okay," someone with a deep voice says. We all turn around. I gasp. "I would never want any of my customers to feel so uncomfortable at their stay at one of Corcoran Hotels."

It's him. It's him. It's Rick – Richard Corcoran. I don't listen to him anymore. I just stare at him. I can't hear anyone. He's so beautiful – like a doll. I don't realize he's talking to me until I hear my name.

"Isn't that right, Miss Quinn Fabray?" His eyes land on me, his face hold a cool mask. "You wouldn't mind staying with me, right? All rooms are booked. My suite has an extra room, too."

Everyone stares at me with expectant eyes. This is supposed to be my boyfriend. I have to act like it. Harmony's watching me with observing eyes – waiting for my next moves.

"Of course, I don't mind." I walk over to Rick with my bags. I loop my arm in his. "He _is_ my boyfriend." Everyone gasps – even Mr. Hopkins, who doesn't dare to say anything to such a billionaire like Rick. I look up at his face. He's raising his eyebrow in amusement and I just smile at him – trying to tell him not to say anything with my eyes.

He doesn't say anything but, "Let's go then, _girlfriend_."

Shit. I'm going to completely unguarded and alone with him. _Nice job, Quinn. Smooth move_, I compliment myself.

_**The end...**_

_**Hope you guys like it... anyway, what you think happen next? well stay tune to find out xD**_

_**Thanks for your comment, review, support and everything! BYEBYE!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_"Of course, I don't mind." I walk over to Rick with my bags. I loop my arm in his. "He is my boyfriend." Everyone gasps – even Mr. Hopkins, who doesn't dare to say anything to such a billionaire like Rick. I look up at his face. He's raising his eyebrow in amusement and I just smile at him – trying to tell him not to say anything with my eyes._**

**_He doesn't say anything but, "Let's go then, girlfriend."_**

**_Shit. I'm going to completely unguarded and alone with him. Nice job, Quinn. Smooth move, I compliment myself._**

* * *

><p>"This is my suite," Rick announces, his left hand in mid-air indicating to two double doors. I trail my eyes from his hand to his expensive looking suit to his shiny brown eyes – which I'm very jealous of. He opens the doors and I follow behind him with my bags in my hand.<p>

"Um, nice suite you've got here," I say awkwardly as I look around. Everything looks so high-class. It feels as if I move more than an inch, something expensive – like the glass vases on each table – will randomly shatter. _There's even a freaking chandelier!_ I scream in my head. _And it's just a suite!_

"Thank you," he says, eyeing me suspiciously as if he's expecting me to grab something expensive and run. "Follow me." He starts walking without even waiting for me. _Such a gentleman_, I think sarcastically. I leave my bags near the entrance and try to go catch up to him without getting lost.

My sneakers squeak against the marble floor of the suite.

I must be crazy wearing disgusting sneakers with a skirt. Hey, at least I look nice… but obviously not nice enough after looking at his suite. It feels as if the air I breathe is more expensive than everything I own.

I suddenly realize we're in the kitchen. There's a large white table covered in a sik tablecloth with matching chairs. A stove and other kitchen things are on the side of the wall. Everything looks so elegant.

"Take a seat." His voice sends chills through me. I'll never get used to it.

He is already sitting at the head of the table, so I decide to sit at one of his sides. I'm nervous. I resist the urge to bite my nails – a habit mom constantly lectures me to stop. What will he say? Will he kick me out after and make me sleep on the streets?

"So, I'm ready for your explanation," He says. His nice, charming appearance is gone. His eyes are dead set onto mine. "Why would start these rumors?"

"Um, it's really complicated." I stare at my bare legs, looking anywhere but him.

"What? Are you a gold digger? Do you want money? Is that it? I've had tons of girls like you – making stupid rumors for money." His tone is harsh. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out three hundred-dollar bills and then sets it on the table. "Is this enough? You're what? Sixteen, seventeen? This should be enough for someone your age."

Wow. His personality changed quickly. Even though it's my fault that everything's happened – I can't help but feel angry. "No, I'm not a gold-digger," I say calmly as I can. I push back his money.

He looks strangely confused – which is a cute look for him, but I push that though away. I'm supposed to be mad right now. "Then what? Are you going to blackmail me?"

"No," I say through gritted teeth. "Just let me explain."

"I'm listening."

I'm going to tell him straight out. "I need you for something." He raises his eyebrow. "I need you to make my friend jealous. I know I sound _completely_ ridiculous, but I didn't intend for this to happen. Your name just randomly slipped out of my mouth when she asked me if I had a boyfriend – you know, because I saw you in a magazine earlier. I know I sound crazy."

"You do." He doesn't seem angry though. Maybe I hit a soft spot. He leans in and folds his hands on the table and stares at me, amused with all of this. "Now tell me, Miss Quinn, what would I get out of this little act?"

I didn't think of that. "I don't know. What do you want?"

He chuckles. And I mean, _really_ loud chuckling. He basically looks like he's about to die from laughter. Rick's clutching his chest, laughing. Finally, he stops. Wiping off a tear from his eye, he says, "There's nothing you can give me, sweetheart."

And then… I flip.

First he accuses me of being a god-digger and then he acts like I'm no good as a human being. "Listen here, _Rick_! Money isn't everything! Yeah, you have tons of money, but can you buy friendship? Or love? Or family? You can't! Because those things _can't_ be bought! You are a sick excuse for a human!"

He looks stunned. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open. I take this opportunity to retrieve my bags and storm off. I don't know where I'm going but I guess I'll just have to use my instincts to figure out where I'm supposed to sleep.

It's hilarious how I just yelled at the man who's giving me shelter for the night. I _am_ going crazy.

I don't care anymore. I walk into endless hallways and finally find a room that has a bed. I just take my things in there and lock the door. The bed looks really fluffy so I jump on it before crashing on a pillow. Then I thing. I think of this entire thing over.

_Should I just give up? Let Harmony win this fight?_ I mean, it's not even that important. Honestly, I don't care about Harmony or Sam. It's my pride that I don't want to lose. Stupid pride. I'm at a dead end.

I scream into a pillow. I'm about to start unpacking when my phone makes a _bing_ noise. It's a text from San. _How's things with Richard? Update me. Btw, in three hours we're going to go sightseeing. Be ready. Remember this is a fieldtrip, Quinn._

I completely forgot. I'm on a fieldtrip. The stupid jerk and Harmony made me forget. Suddenly, someone's knocking on the door.

"What?!" I scream. I know I'm being really rude but that guy deserves it after treating me like was worth nothing.

"Miss Quinn, please open the door!" Rick yells.

"I don't want to!" I cross my arms. I feel like a five-year old. "Go shove it, Rick! Leave me alone! You're the one who offered me a place to sleep!"

"Open the door!" he says. He starts banging on the door but nothing happens. I hear him mutter, "Stupid teenagers."

"Like you're any different!" I shout. "You're only twenty! Like two years is a big difference, smarty-pants!"

"You're the one in my room, smart-ass!" he yells, nothing able to help himself. Did he just swear? I can't believe it. World-class billionaire, Rick Corcoran, _just_ swore. I curse myself for not being able to record it.

I crack the door open an inch. His face is red from yelling. "Did you just swear?" I ask him, a smirk on my face. "Never knew rich dudes like you could swear."

He fixes his face back into his cool gaze. "I do not recall cursing, Miss Quinn." He grabs my wrist. "Hurry up. We're not done talking about this issue."

Rick brings us back to the kitchen and we sit where we sat before.

"Well, aren't you going to apologize?" I question.

"For what?" He asks. "I spoke the truth."

I rolls my eyes, "Arrogant bastard," I mutter.

"Heard that," he says. "I don not wish to accompany you any further in this rumor about us being together. Now, go up to a reporter and say it was all a lie. I cannot have this interfering my business plans. If I look bad on the media, people will never work with me."

This grabs my attention. "No, no, please! I'm sorry for calling you names and things, but I _really_ need you." I take his hand, earning an appalled look from him. "Please, Rick!"

He shrugs off my hand. "That's _Mr_. Corcoran to _you_." He stands up and fixes his tie before checking his watch. "I have a meeting to get to. You can still sleep here for the night because I _actually_ do care about my customers, but we will not engage in any activity that could cause more rumors. Just order room service for food and everything else you need is here. I assume you'll get back to your class for the rest of the day."

I nod, knowing there's nothing I can do anymore.

"Good. I'll see you soon then, Miss Quinn. Pleasure meeting you," he says. "Now if you excuse me." He walks out of the suite and then I'm alone.

I've lost.

* * *

><p>I spend the rest of the day unpacking and sightseeing with the rest of the class. Nobody mentions the thing between Rick and I. I'm thankful, but I know Harmony's going to come up sooner or later.<p>

We're visiting Central Park when Harmony comes up to me. Santana and I are sitting at a bench. Mr. Hopkins ordered that we separate around the park but meet back at 4.30.

"So, Quinn," Harmony starts, "where's Richard Corcoran?"

"How should I know?" I say. I turn back to Santana but she's texting Daniel. "I may be his girlfriend but I don't track him. He's probably at work."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" she says. "I mean if you _really are _dating – you'll have no problem introducing him to your friends, right?"

"He's busy."

She claps her hand. "I just remembered! There's a small party at the hotel tonight, and as the owner of the hotel – he's going to be there. Our class is attending, so why not introduce us there?"

My fingers twitch. What do I do? _Remain cool, remain cool,_ I remind myself over and over. "Really? Okay, then. When's the party?"

"Ten o'clock sharp." She's smirking. Does she have some kind of evil plan? Or does she not expect me to fight back?

"Okay then. You can meet him then," I say.

"Good." She walks off. I sit there and thing. I have made the biggest mistake. There's no way out. Rick refuses to help me, and the party's _tonight_. This night will affect everything. All I know is one thing.

Time for Plan B.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Lol of course i wouldn't xD... thank you for all your reviews... keep it up and ill keep mine up xD<br>**_

_**Sorry this chapter kinda short, well the next one won't be though. Anyway, hope you guys like it.**_

_**As always don't forget to reviews! BYEBYE!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**My fingers twitch. What do I do? Remain cool, remain cool, I remind myself over and over. "Really? Okay, then. When's the party?"**_

_**"Ten o'clock sharp." She's smirking. Does she have some kind of evil plan? Or does she not expect me to fight back?**_

_**"Okay then. You can meet him then," I say.**_

_**"Good." She walks off. I sit there and thing. I have made the biggest mistake. There's no way out. Rick refuses to help me, and the party's tonight. This night will affect everything. All I know is one thing.**_

_**Time for Plan B.**_

* * *

><p>I am an idiot. A complete <em>idiot<em>.

"You are such an idiot," Santana says, reading my thoughts. She lounges on the bed, going through text messages from Daniel. I think they're on the verge of being official. We're in her hotel room right now. She shares it with a girl named Lisa – someone in our class.

I'm sitting on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think of ideas to somehow avoid tonight. So far, I have nothing.

The party will take off in less than four hours.

"Thanks for the support, best friend." I say sarcastically. "What do I do? Rick refuses to help and I already told Harmony I'd introduce him to her tonight." I groan, falling flat back on the bed.

"And this is why you're an idiot."

I close my eyes and try to come up with ideas. _Anything_. I jolt up. "Maybe I can just like pretend to be sick. Or maybe trip down the stairs and sprain my leg!"

Santana looks up from her phone, sending me a look. "That's ridiculous."

"I know," I frown. "I can't think of anything though." I run both my hands through my hair, messing it up into a wild frizz. "There's not that much I can do – time is running out, too."

"Okay, just go to Rick. Ask him for a favor – just this once," Santana suggests. "Just tell him this is the last time before you leave him alone completely. Maybe, he'll listen. Hell if not, use some blackmail or something."

She has a point. A low blow but I'm desperate. I'm trouble-prone. It's a good idea too. I could leave him alone after tonight. Just tonight. I just want _one_ night where I can be right and have the better life. I just want to beat Harmony – just once, at least.

"I'll be right back," I tell San before I head out of the hotel room. I don't think she heard me though. I walk down the hallway and into the elevator to get to the highest floor. Rick lives on the top floor – such a snob. He just has to live on the top floor like he rules the world or something.

The elevator dings open and Rick's standing right in front of me. Talk about awkward situations of all time.

I wave lamely. "Hi." He gives me a glare and I blush. This is embarrassing. He rejected me and kind of told me off. What're you supposed to do in situations like this?

Rick walks in the elevator, giving me the cold shoulder. I frown. It stings even though everything is my fault. His rich smelling cologne burns my nostrils. _So, he wants to play the rude treatment? We'll see._

"What? Did you not take a shower today? Why the overflow of cologne?" I say, my voice flat. I don't know why I'm mad that he's ignoring me… but it hurts.

"Excuse me?" His eyes flicker over to me. He scoffs as if I have the nerve to even be talking to him. "Me? What's with your hair? Did you fall off a cliff and run into a toilet?"

_What's he talking about_? I check my reflection on the silver part of the elevator. My hair looks like a ball of knotted golden yarn. I remember I messed it up earlier when I frustrated.

Blushing, I pat down my hair until it's decent. "Shut up."

He smirks, knowing he won. Maybe, I should try a different approach. I suddenly straighten up – causing him to look over. He gives me a confused look. I walk closer to him and he strays away from me as possible. His back is on the wall now.

"What are you doing, Miss Quinn?" his cool voice says. Of course, he'd stay extremely calm in a situation like this.

I put on my most seductive tone. "Doing _what_, Rick?"

His face is blank by now. He's just staring at me. I can't tell what he's thinking. His face gives off nothing. Is he going to fall for it? Will he start laughing? I can tell he's trying to hold his laughter.

Suddenly, it's me up against the wall. Rick's breath is fanned across my face – smelling of peppermint. What kind of businessman eats peppermint? I stray my mind away from there nonsense thoughts and back to what's happening.

Rick leans in until his lips are at my ear. "You'll have to do better than that, Miss Quinn." I start turning red. That was _too_ embarrassing. It didn't even work. What was I even thinking? He starts laughing. "You are _too_ funny, Miss Quinn."

My blood boils.

I'm about to make a smart-ass retort but the elevator opens and suddenly he backs off and walks out of the elevator suavely. I scramble after him. We're in the large lobby. There are tons of people everywhere. Everyone is either seated at one of the expensive looking sofas or at the front desk checking in.

It looks like his suite except everyone can access it. He starts walking off down a hallway. A scrawny looking guy in a suit comes up after us.

"Mr. Corcoran! Here you are," he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I have left the files about the park reconstruction on your desk."

"Thank you, Will. You may leave until further notice," Rick says without even bothering to look at Will. _Rude_, I think. He suddenly goes down the hallway and into a room.

It's an office. _His _office.

There's a marble floor, white walls, a big desk, and sofas. He takes a seat at the desk and goes through a couple of papers – the files Will was talking about.

"Who was that?" I ask.

"Will," he says, not listening. I realize Rick's wearing glasses. Big-rimmed glasses around his eyes that sort of makes him look… _cute_. I scrunch up my face in disgust. What am I thinking of?

"Yes, I know that, I heard you." I take a seat in front of his desk. "But what does he do for you?"

"He's my secretary," he says. He signs random papers with paragraphs of writing. Then he suddenly looks up at me. "Wait, why are _you_ still here?" He's so bipolar. One minute, he's calling me, 'Miss Quinn' and all that jazz, and the next he's rude.

"I need a favor." I finally said it.

"What kind of favor?" he asks, taking his glasses off. His cool demeanor is back. It makes me even more nervous. I have to tell him _now_. There's no going back.

"I need you to be my boyfriend – "

"We already discussed this. Not happening," he cut me off.

" – for tonight only."

Now, he's really confused. His eyebrows are arched and I stare straight into his eyes. I need to seem calm and collective. I breathe in and out. He's waiting for my response.

"What?" he finally says. "What do you mean tonight only?"

"You know the party?" Recognition fills his eyes. "Yeah, I need you _only _for that event. I promise not to bother you after."

"No."

"There's nothing to lose, though! Soon, I'll be out of New York City and back to my town and we'll never see each other again. My friends will believe you and I are together and you can go back to your hotel running business. It all works out."

He scratches his chin – a sign for him thinking seriously? "That doesn't sound _too_ bad," he says.

"See!" I beam. "Nothing to lose!"

Rick folds his hands together. "I didn't say I agreed." I frown. "We still have to go over some things – rules. Things we are _not_ allowed to do. Things that might end us both in trouble."

"Okay." I nod. "Let's write this down." I randomly grab a notepad and pen from his desk, earning a glare from him, which I ignore. Together we start naming all the things we can't do tonight, or we'll both sue each other.

In the end, our list concluded of the ten most things we couldn't do: _No kissing. Physical contact such as hand holding and small things are okay. No talking to any media. Ignore completely. No stretching the lie even further. No more of this relationship – only tonight. No telling anyone the truth about this, except for those who already know. No real physical contact between each other. No contacting each other after tonight. No being indebt to each other. No falling in love. No lying to each other. No falling in love._

I am pretty happy about the rules. None of them were a problem to me. It was a win-win situation. I grin at that.

"Sign it," He says, pushing the paper to me.

"Seriously?" I say, raising my eyebrows this time. "You want _me _to sign a piece of lined paper with rules as if it were a real contract?" I laugh.

"Yes," he says seriously. I stop. Offering a small smile, I take the pen and scribble _Quinn Fabray_ in the best handwriting I can muster. Then, he takes the pen and signs it too.

"Wait, who'll keep it?" I ask. "Don't we both need a copy?"

"I'm pretty sure I'll remember these rules, Miss Quinn," he says. "But _you_? I think you should keep this paper tucked in – just to remember every so often." Rick smiles a devilish smile.

I glare. "Of course, I'll remember. _Mr. Corcoran_." I grab the paper and stuff it in my pocket. I stand from my seat. The clock on his desk reads 7:34. I'm late. "I'll be late. See you at the party!"

He just smirks as I rush off back to the suite.

* * *

><p>I'm groomed and ready in two hours.<p>

My blonde hair is pulled into an elegant side bun with a few strings of hair falling out intentionally. My hazel eyes are outlined with mascara and eyeliner. I look and feel older by looking so fancy.

I put on some blush and lip-gloss before on some red heels to match my strapless red heels to match my strapless red dress. It's just right for the party – elegant and suave at the same time.

After grabbing my purse, I head out to the living room of Rick's suite. I'll never get used to how beautiful and expensive his place is. I realize he's not in the living room and frown,

Where is he?

I walk to his bedroom – across from my room – and push open the door. The next moment goes by in a blur: a scream, a six pack, a room filled with ties and suits everywhere, and the door slamming in my face within six seconds.

I stare at the door for five straight minutes before processing what just happened. I_ just saw _Rick Corcoran in his boxers. If it weren't for the face that my face was red as a tomato, I would probably laugh in a situation like this. How do I face him now?

_Great! Another awkward moment with Rick_, I think sarcastically. I scold myself for not knocking or this whole thing wouldn't have happened.

Before I can react, Rick opens the door in a tuxedo except his collar is unbuttoned and he has no tie on.

"S-Sorry for, um, barging in," I apologize, looking at my feet. Rick coughs uncomfortably before glancing at me. His jaw falls just for one mini-second before quickly remaining cool again.

"I-I wanted to know if my tie should match with your dress," he says, avoiding all eye contact. "I could wear a red tie or I could just go with the casual black or something."

"Yeah, that's fine. You should wear the red." I say. He nods in silence. I can almost _feel_ the awkward tension in the air. "I-I'll go wait in the living room. Don't be long."

"Okay," Rick says before I go to the living room. I text Santana: _Ready 4 the party? R u bringing Daniel?_ I add a semi-colon and parenthesis at the end for an attempt of a wink. I end up watching some television before Rick emerges from his room.

He looks… hot.

So hot that my mouth is still hanging open even after he grabs his suite keys and tell me to get going. He's smirking at me – as if he knew I was going to be drooling over him. _What an arrogant guy_.

We ride the elevator in silence. The party is in the ballroom of the hotel. The hotel is bigger than it seems. I had to find out the hard way when I had tried to find my way back to the suite earlier after talking to Rick about the rules for tonight. Speaking of that, I have the paper tucked into my purse.

Rick and I walk through the lobby, earning various stares from people – even some classmates from my school. Seeing them, I sneak my hand into Rick's. He looks at me with a weird face before following my gaze to the classmates in the lobby. He nods, understanding, before we walk to the ballroom.

When we walk into the party, soft violins are playing in the background and champagne classes are being clinked. But all of it stops when we walk in. it's as if there's a stage-light pointing straight to us.

People gasp and whisper as we walk in. I spot Harmony, Sam, and Santana in the crowd. They're all separated in the crowd but their eyes are on me – like everyone else. I didn't think tonight would have _this_ much of an impact.

Later on, I find Santana as Rick finds some of his friends and the stares settle down. "That was so embarrassing," I say to her. "Everyone was staring at me like I was some exhibit."

"Well, you _are_ Rick Corcoran's girlfriend for the night. How can that _not_ be big news?" She says, smiling. She's in a gold cocktail dress that looks beautiful.

We talk about some small things and she introduces me to Daniel and we eat dinner together. Everything's fine. Nobody's asked me anything. I've stayed with Santana and Dani throughout the entire thing – dodging everyone else.

But it doesn't last long.

A reporter comes up to me when I go get some punch alone. I feel stupid for going alone. I should have brought someone.

"Is it true you're Rick Corcoran's lover?" the reporter asks, setting his camera up for a picture. Why was he even invited?

"Er, I have to go, now," I say, about to walk off when he suddenly grabs my hand. "Excuse me." He doesn't let go. "This is physical assault. Please, let go."

"I just want to know. Is it true?"

"Let me go, you creep!" I shout. People look over – eyes landing on me. This is not good. Not good at all. I'm such an idiot.

A soft hand rests on my shoulder. I look over. It's Rick. His face looks angry but cool and serene at the same time. "I think the lady told you to let go," he says calmly even though there's a angry, possessive undertone.

The reporter let go and snaps a picture. Soon, all reporters surround us along with some guest. Questions are thrown everywhere.

"Are you dating?"

"When did this start? Are you eloping together?"

"How did you two meet?"

I'm about to deny this all because of the rules we had agreed on but I lock eyes with Harmony in the crowd. She's smirking, she had that I'm-about-to-win smirk. This gives me all the motivation to do what I do next.

I kiss Rick right on the lips and say, "Yes, we are dating."

I'm breaking so many rules. I know this. I know I'm ruining everything. I don't know why. Cameras flash and snap pictures of the kiss and confession – some even video cameras. People are gasping and whispering all over again. I did all of this.

Rick is giving me a confused look through his eyes even though he is smiling. He's telling me to stop all this through his eyes...

But I just smile back with careful eyes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The end...<strong>_

_**Just kidding,,, xD**_

_**Ooooh someone in trouble! Hehe i am evil xD**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I'm about to deny this all because of the rules we had agreed on but I lock eyes with Harmony in the crowd. She's smirking, she had that I'm-about-to-win smirk. This gives me all the motivation to do what I do next.**_

_**I kiss Rick right on the lips and say, "Yes, we are dating."**_

_**I'm breaking so many rules. I know this. I know I'm ruining everything. I don't know why. Cameras flash and snap pictures of the kiss and confession – some even video cameras. People are gasping and whispering all over again. I did all of this.**_

_**Rick is giving me a confused look through his eyes even though he is smiling. He's telling me to stop all this through his eyes...**_

* * *

><p>I tip the glass of champagne in my hand, watching it circle around in the glass. I take a sip – one of many in past hour. The party is coming to an end.<p>

There are hotel assistants cleaning up tables, picking up trash, and mopping the floor. I sit at an empty table, empty glasses and plates everywhere. There are one or two guests lingering around, but they're not important people so I don't have to act all nice.

Rick is trying to reason with the reporters somewhere to stop the pictures and videos from going out into the public. I sigh. I'm nervous. When he comes back, he's going to be pissed.

I down my drink and put the glass down.

I shouldn't be drinking. Mom told me not to drink until I'm old enough, but I really need a drink right now. I feel a headache coming on. I wonder if I'm drunk.

"Miss, can you please clear the table so I may clean?" a lady in the black hotel uniform asks me. Her face is blurry – the alcohol must be kicking in. I knew I shouldn't have downed so many drinks.

"Surrre," I slur standing up but I forget I'm wearing heels and tumble to the ground. It hurts but I can't tell where. "Whoops."

"Are you okay, miss?!" the lady shrieks, rushing over to help me. She tries to tug my arm but I feel like something's holding me to the ground – something heavy.

"I can't get up, lady. Zombies are coming out of the ground and are keeping me from getting up. Leave without me, lady! You can make it," I say, flinging my hand away from here. "Go!"

"Pardon, miss?" She sounds confused – it's funny.

"It's okay, Penny, I got her," a voice breaks in. It sounds deep. It sounds funny. Everything sounds funny. Suddenly, I'm lifted from the ground. "God, you're heavy!"

"Oh my gosh! Thank you, kind man. You saved me from the zombies," I yell. He's holding me in his arms. "Thank you!" I wrap my arms around his neck, causing the man to flinch.

I can feel sleep tugging at my eyes.

"God, Quinn, you're so heavy. You weigh like a whale." Quinn? Who's Quinn? This man is confusing. I'm so sleepy. I rest on the man's shoulder. He smells really good. I sniff his shoulder. "What are you doing!"

Is he talking to me?

"I'm sniffing your shoulder, silly. You smell really good. I can't tell if it's lemon or apple or what. You smell like…"

"Stop smelling me." He throws me on something comfy, a bed? I don't let him go. "Please remove your arms off my neck."

"No!" I protest. "Come sleep with me, teddy bear." My vision gets blurrier. I'm really sleepy now. I tug the man closer until he lands on top of me. "You're so warm."

He tries to shrug off but I tighten my grip. He struggles before giving up with a sigh. I smile with content. It's too cold without this big teddy bear hugging me. Now, I'll have a good night rest.

I drift off into sleep with a smile and a fluffy teddy bear.

"Wake up!" A large hand shakes my shoulder violently. "Wake up, Quinn!" The warm covers are ripped away from me. A shiver runs through me. I hate the cold weather. Mom is so violent, sometimes.

I sit up causing my head to pound with pain. I wince. I rub my eyes open. "Mom, I'm awake. Shut up already!"

You can imagine what a surprise it was to see Rick there instead… without a suit on. No, it wasn't like he was naked – _unfortunately_. I wonder what he looked like under his shirt.

I shake my head free from these thoughts. It's too early to be thinking about such things. I scrunch up my face, disgusted with myself. Rick's standing there in a normal t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. He almost looks normal.

I notice I'm partly naked – still wearing the dress from the party. I scream, covering myself with the covers. "Rick! What're you doing?!"

"Waking you up," he yells back. "It's almost noon! Wake up. You're so unladylike for a lady. Who sleeps _this_ late? Don't you have to catch up with your class or something?"

"_So unladylike for a lady_," I repeat, mimicking his tone. Rick sends me a glare. "Whatever. I sleep this late. Now, leave me alone." I pull myself back to the bed, covering my face in the pillow.

He pulls my legs and I'm dragged out of bed… literally. It's like one of those horror movies where the stupid female lead is hiding in the most obvious place and gets dragged to her death by the killer.

"How can you sleep after last night?" Rick asks, still shouting and pulling me out of bed. I sit up, kicking his hands away from my legs.

I freeze. Last night? What happened last night? Something happened. What was it? I can't remember but I know it's important. Something important. I can't remember. I groan in frustration.

"Why can't I remember?" I ask him, confused.

"Well after taking the many drinks that you did, of course you can't remember," he explains, crossing his arms. He rolls his eyes. "Aren't you underage?"

"Shut up," I tell him, getting up. I shove him out of my way. I hear him mutter something like "rude". I walk to the kitchen, barefoot and still in my dress. I fix it so it's not hitching up my legs and chest. Getting a glass, I pour some water for myself and finish it.

Something pops out of nowhere in my mind. A memory – tons of memories: a kiss, flashes of cameras, lies, smelling some nice cologne, hugging someone to sleep – hugging _Rick_ to sleep.

I gasp, dropping the glass.

It doesn't break, though. The glass drops to the table sideways. _Maybe expensive glasses are sturdier_, I think.

He is standing behind me with a smirk plastered on his stupid, shiny face. "So, you remember now?" I stay completely still. I don't breathe. I feel like he can smell my fear… or that's just the alcohol from last night.

"I-I don't remember." There goes another lie.

"Really?" Rick says. He pulls out something out of his pocket of his plaid pajamas and lays it on the table. They're pictures. Does he usually carry random things in his pajamas?

Nope. The pictures are of us kissing.

I need to mentally tuck this moment under "another awkward moment with Rick" in my head. It's always awkward with him. I slowly pick up the pictures and go through them. I'm speaking in some, Rick's glaring at me in others, but to others it might look like an affectionate look.

He reaches into his pocket again – surprise, surprise – and pulls out the new iPhone6. What's he doing? Showing off? I send him a glare but he doesn't catch. He's tapping against his phone.

He comes closer so our shoulders are touching and says, "Look at this."

He plays the video. It's loud at first – many voices all at once – but then all you hear are flashes from cameras. I realize that it's me standing with Rick at last night's party while reporters shove questions at my face. There are small recorders surrounding Rick and I.

I say one sentence. "_Yes, we are dating_." That's all I say but it causes more flashes and people surrounding us. Suddenly, I kiss Rick in the video for a good five seconds. I gasp. "Holy Shit." My hands are covering my mouth.

Rick takes his phone away and stuffs it back into his pocket, his face smug. My hand is still covering my mouth. How – why did I kiss Rick? What was I thinking! I promised I wouldn't do anything. I broke so many rules with him! _Him_…

He's really going to kill, now.

I look over at him. He's still smirking at me, clearly enjoying all of this. He's going to make me pay. I know it. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean? I told you that you can't give me anything," he says, crossing his arms. It's kind of weird looking at him without his fancy business suits.

"That what's the problem?"

"Keep your promise." He takes out another piece of paper from his pocket and I seriously doubt how many things he keeps in there. "This," he indicates, holding the paper out, "is the contract we signed yesterday."

"Did you steal that from my purse?" I protest, which he ignores.

"You promised you'd only bother me one last time before leaving me alone. Time to pay up. I was your boyfriend for one night. And _you're_ the one who broke up all the rules," he says. "The least you can do for me is to leave me alone."

I stare at him and slowly nod. Am I really that much of a nuisance? I can't help but feel… _hurt_.

"I can't have these stupid reporters and rumors messing up my business strategies. I've worked too hard," he continues. He runs both hands through his hair – looking stressed for the first time.

"You want me to leave?" I ask, masking my voice of hurt.

"Yes." He didn't even hesitate.

"Oh," is all I say before going back to the guest room. I get out of my stupid dress and change into jeans, and a long-sleeved white shirt. I remove all the crusty make-up from my face and apply a fresh coat of mascara only. I pick up all the clothes off the floor and stuff it in the suitcase. Most of my things are in my bags already but I still pack some things in.

I put everything in my bags angrily. Why am I so angry that he wants me to leave? So what he wants me to leave? It was going to happen sooner or later.

I throw my makeup in my bag harshly. _That's right_, I say to myself. _This shouldn't affect me. He helped me, and now I need to return the favor by leaving_. I nod in agreement to my thoughts as I zip up all my suitcases. Fixing all the suitcases by the door, I make the beds and clean the room. I even leave a note that says:

_Thanks for the help, Rick._

He'll get to read it whenever he finds it. I leave the note on the nightstand and wheel my suitcases to the living room where he stands.

"I've booked a room for you. It's a bigger room than usual but it's the only one open right now. Hope that's okay with you?" he says, holding a key out for me to take.

I snatch it and shove it in my back pocket. He arches his eyebrow at me. I glare back and pull my hair into a ponytail. It had started irritating me. I grab my suitcases by the handle. "Is that all?"

He seems a bit taken back. "Um, yeah."

"Great. Goodbye," I say without even looking at him. I drag my suitcases out of his suite and down the hall and to wherever the hell room 219 is.

* * *

><p>I end up in a room a floor above Santana's. it's big with a queen-sized bed and everything. There's a small fridge and TV, a decent sized bathroom that's really clean.<p>

I catch up with the class and the teacher goes over the activities we're going to for the rest of the week: go see the Statue of Liberty, Times Square, and all that jazz. It's actually fun. I even partially forget about Rick. Everything is fun and games, so far.

I see Rick only once.

It's the last day of the trip. The day I go back to Brownwood – the most boring town of all. I'm getting my bags ready and eating with Santana before Mr. Hopkins calls us down to get on the bus.

"Quinn, where is the chocolate pudding?" San asks as she raids my fridge, the third time since she's been in my room. "I can't find it."

"You're going through my fridge _again_?" I ask, getting my headphones ready for the long bus ride. I'll have to endure with the obnoxious people from my class.

"Well, not _everyone_ has a fridge and small TV in their room!" She exclaims. She grabs a soda instead. "You're _so_ lucky! Why don't you take the advantage and just take all of the food? It's our last day."

"Only you would consider that."

She grins as the door opens. I silently hope it's Rick, but it's just a girl from our class. "The buses are ready! We're leaving now."

"Okay!" Santana yells back as the girl leaves. We grab our suitcases and San grabs a few more snacks before we go down to the lobby to meet up with the rest of the class.

The large lobby is filled with many people. I see our group of students near the doors. There's another tiny group of people standing next to our group.

It's Rick and some people surrounding him.

He's talking about some business things that I can't understand but when I pass by – our eyes lock. It's just a split-second but it feels like slow motion. But, I pass by and he goes back to his conversation.

Our class loads up the buses outside and I give Rick one last glance before getting up in the treacherous bus.

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be continued…<strong>_

_**Aww, poor Quinn she was sad that he asked him to leave D;**_

_**Hope you guys like it!**_

_**Anyway, please spare me a thought by reviewing! Have a good day! BYEBYE xD**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**The large lobby is filled with many people. I see our group of students near the doors. There's another tiny group of people standing next to our group.**_

_**It's Rick and some people surrounding him.**_

_**He's talking about some business things that I can't understand but when I pass by – our eyes lock. It's just a split-second but it feels like slow motion. But, I pass by and he goes back to his conversation.**_

_**Our class loads up the buses outside and I give Rick one last glance before getting up in the treacherous bus.**_

* * *

><p>It's been a while. It's been a <em>long<em> while. I haven't seen Rick for weeks now. I've gotten back from New York City and everything is back to normal. It's almost boring. But, I shouldn't say that and risk jinxing things. Today's the last day before winter break. Winter came so fast this year.

I rest my chin on my palm and watch my biology teacher write notes on the board we're supposed to copy. Mrs. Tee is, of course, the only teacher who would treat the last day before break like any other day. All the other teachers gave us a free period, but not Mrs. Tee.

Scribbling down the notes, I hear the watch on my left hand ticking. Ever since I got back, I've been so dull. Lifeless. I didn't even care about Harmony or Sam – a first in my book. I don't know why.

"Okay, class!" Mrs. Tee yells, setting the marker down from the board. "That's all for today. Good job on the notes. Be safe during the break." The bell starts ringing and everyone shuffles out of his or her seats.

I pack up slowly and walk into the crowded hallway. Everyone is either smiling or laughing, eager for winter break. I guess I'm eager, too. I don't have to talk to anyone for one and a half weeks. I get to my locker, dumb my books in, and swing my backpack over my shoulder before finding Santana.

"Oh, hey Quinn," she greets me when I get to her. "It's finally winter break! You want to go shopping later?"

I'm not really in the mood. I'm never in the mood.

"Uh, sorry, not today." I give an apologetic smile. "How about tomorrow or something? We could meet up, go watch a movie or something."

She nods. "That sounds great."

We head outside and tighten our jackets for the freezing temperature. Early snow is falling gently from the air. I feel some snowflakes land on my hair. People are getting into their cars and pulling out of school. I have to keep in mind to be careful of the slippery roads.

I hate winter.

Most people love it – the hot chocolate, the piles and piles of snow, and snuggling with their loved ones. I hate it. Yeah, those things sound great, but what about waking up early just to walk outside in the freezing weather just to clean up your car and shovel the driveway?

Maybe, I was just a bitter person. I wrap my scarf around my neck to protect myself from the cold. I definitely don't want to be sick over break.

Not that it matters.

"I'll see you later, then?" Santana smiles. Her hair is in a side braid around her neck. Her face seems to be glowing. And then I realize it. I didn't even think about my best friend. I was indulged in my own problems that I pushed my own best friend out. I haven't even asked her about Daniel – her boyfriend. I'm a horrible friend.

"Wait, Santana." I say, grabbing her elbow before she leaves.

"Yeah?" she says.

"Maybe you could come over later and we could watch _Mean Girls_ over again?" I suggest. It isn't fair for San – who's always been there for me – for me to just be there for her when I need her.

"I'd love to," She grins. We hug before she goes off to her car and I go to mine. I almost slip two times while I trudge through the parking lot and into my Honda. Blasting the heat up to the highest it can go, I rub my hands together for warmth. Once again, I hate winter.

* * *

><p>I arrive home in twenty minutes – slower than usual because I take my time on the roads. A car accident could be horrible. After parking my car in the garage, I pick up the mail and get inside. "Mom! I'm home."<p>

No response.

Mom is probably working in the studio. I head up to my room and throw my backpack in the far corner of the room. I'll get homework later. I fire up the computer while I change into sweatpants and a thick sweater. Curling up in the chair, I check trending topics: _Richard Corcoran scores another deal. Richard Corcoran nominated as one of the world's richest. A truck hits Justin Bieber._

Rick's everywhere. I can't even flip on the TV without him there. Not even magazines or the radio. He's on the Internet everywhere, too.

I scroll over to the second trending topic. The page loads and I see Rick. He's standing with his hands in his pockets and a drool-worthy smirk on his face. He looks great. I'm glad my actions didn't hurt his reputation. Almost nobody even brings it up anymore.

Even Harmony, she closes her mouth because she lost. I proved to her that Rick was my boyfriend so she hasn't talked to me since. She doesn't want to face the embarrassment that for once I had something or something better than her. It must be driving her nuts.

Sam on the other hand has been trying to talk to me: phone calls and texts. He keeps asking if I were actually together with Rick, how'd we fall in love, etc. it's almost as if he's an annoying reporter.

I smirk.

I never thought to see the day where I'd think Sam – the guy I was "madly in love with" – to be annoying to me. I'm changing. I can feel it.

"Oh, Quinn, you're home." Mom's head sticks out at the door. "I was at the supermarket. Listen, I got some groceries – want to help me unpack?"

I nod and follow her to the kitchen. I grab the groceries and place them wherever they belong. Mom puts away the rest while I make us some hot chocolate. I put marshmallows into our hot chocolates and sprinkle some cinnamon onto mine. She doesn't like cinnamon, but Dad did. We used to always sit by the fireplace and drink hot chocolate together. Another reason why I hate winter – it brings back too many hurtful memories.

I set her cup down in front of her. "Thanks."

"No problem," I smile. I take a seat next to her. "The weather's getting really bad out, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," she replies, taking a sip from her cup. "I hear there's going to be a storm, soon." I nod in acknowledgement. "So, where's Santana these days? I haven't seen her around for a while."

"She's coming over tonight," I say, "if that's okay with you."

"Of course, it's okay," She smiles. "Santana's like second family. She's always welcomed here. Just make sure she's careful of the weather. I don't want anything happen while she tries to get here in the storm."

"Alright," I say, smiling. I take a sip of my hot chocolate.

"Speaking of which, I have a gallery show tomorrow," she tells me. "It's in New York City." I wince. "I'm leaving tomorrow just before the storm hits. I'll be gone for a couple of days. I need to go to many exhibits. Are you okay staying here alone?"

"It's fine. I'm used to it." I give her a reassuring smile. "I'll just hang out with San or something." I drink the rest of my hot chocolate. "I'll go work on some homework, now."

"Okay, sweetie." She gives me tender look. "Don't work too hard."

I place my cup in the sink. "Right back at you."

* * *

><p>Santana comes over around seven. She brings bags of popcorn and her sleeping bag. Mom said it was okay if she stayed over for the night since it's winter break. There's no curfew.<p>

We're in my room deciding which movie we should watch over from my stack of DVDs. Her sleeping bag is set near my bed and she's in her Mickey Mouse pajamas. Maybe a girls' night is what I need to relax.

My phone rings, bringing me out of my thoughts.

The caller ID says unknown. I don't know if I should accept or decline the call. What if it's some creep? Santana sends me a confused look when I don't answer it. It's probably one of those companies calling, anyways.

"Probably some stupid advertisement," I say as I go back to the stack of movies. San nods in comprehension. My phone rings again. Usually, companies don't call twice. It must be somebody, then. What if it's Sam using a different number to call me? It could also be an emergency call.

Not taking any chances, I pick up. "Hello?"

"Miss Quinn." My eyes widen. It's Rick. I can tell. I look over to San and mouth that it's Rick. Her eyes widen as well as she scoots closer so she can hear. I put the call on speaker.

"Yes, Rick?" I remain cool. I can't give away anything by my voice. He can't know that I actually, kind of, _missed_ him – if that's possible. I only met him once. I can't miss someone who I've only. _Impossible_, I think logically.

"How are you doing?" He asks, his voice completely unreadable. Did he really just call me to ask how I was doing? Something inside me lightens up. Does he care about me? "I need a favor."

I shatter. _There goes that thought_.

He only called me for a favor. Not for me. It feels like a flower just bloomed inside me but just withered away in the blink of an eye. Must be the stress. "So?" I say to him.

"Can you oblige?"

"It depends," I say. "What's the favor?" Santana moves her hands, indicating me to keep the conversation going with Rick. I nod back.

"I need you." My breath is taken away for one second before realizing that he needs me _for his favor_. I fix my composure. I need to stay completely in control at all times. "Quinn?"

"I'm here." I sit down on my bed. San takes a seat next to me. "What do you need me for?" Now, I'm curious. Rick even said himself that I could never give him anything he Is rich and can afford everything he needs by himself. So, why does he need me now?

"You know the night of the party?" he asks. I nod, even though he can't see me. "There were very important business partners who attended. I'm currently in a deal with them right now. But there's been a problem."

"Why would you need me to help you in a deal?" I ask, confused.

"You see, they think you and I are together. They are asking to meet you. It seems you remind them of their daughter," he explains. "Now, here's what I need you to do. You need to come here and tell them that we broke up or something. Just tell them we're not together anymore."

"I don't understand," I say. "Why can't you do it? I'm pretty sure it wouldn't make a difference if you just said it." I cross my legs on the bed and sit comfortably.

"You don't get it. They wouldn't listen. Besides, I'm Richard Corcoran. I can't just say such nonsense things like that," he says.

"So it's your pride?" I smirk. What a jerk.

"Well… yes." He pauses, waiting for my response. "Can you do it? You owe me. I gave you shelter and your needs. It's time to help me. You'll meet them at my birthday banquet in two days. You'll have to leave tomorrow so we can discuss some things."

"I don't know," I say, chewing on my nails. I notice and put my hand down to keep myself from biting my nails. Should I go? Should I help Rick? "I really don't know, Rick."

And then he says one word. A word I never expect him to ever say to me sincerely. A word that makes my heart swell and forget my doubts.

"_Please_."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yay! Another chap! Dun dun what would happen next? Well stay tune and find out xD<strong>_

_**Anyway, hope you like it, if so please keep on reviewing for more updates! **_

_**Thank you all.. BYEBYE xD**_


	9. Chapter 9

"_**So it's your pride?" I smirk. What a jerk.**_

"_**Well… yes." He pauses, waiting for my response. "Can you do it? You owe me. I gave you shelter and your needs. It's time to help me. You'll meet them at my birthday banquet in two days. You'll have to leave tomorrow so we can discuss some things."**_

"_**I don't know," I say, chewing on my nails. I notice and put my hand down to keep myself from biting my nails. Should I go? Should I help Rick? "I really don't know, Rick."**_

_**And then he says one word. A word I never expect him to ever say to me sincerely. A word that makes my heart swell and forget my doubts.**_

"_**Please."**_

* * *

><p>During the night, Santana and I devise a plan to make everything work. I agreed to Rick's request and hung up shortly after – <em>only<em> because he said please, is what I tell myself. Our plan is that in the morning, Mom will take her car to her gallery in New York and I will take mine to where Rick is. I'll avoid mom in there and come back before she even gets home. Everything with be fine.

Though, the plan has no meaning in the morning.

"Quinn, honey, I'm taking your car! My car won't start up. Stupid freezing weather's causing my engine to freeze," she mutters in the morning as San and I come out for breakfast.

_No, no, no, no, _I think. _I _need_ that car_!

"Mom, can't you just, uh, ask one of your artist friends to come pick you up?" I suggest, trying to hide my motive. "I mean, tons of artists are going. Why can't you go with them?"

"I don't want to bother them," she says, waving me off. "Okay, don't have too much fun when I'm gone. Love you, bye."

I'm panicking on the inside as she finishes her toast and hops into my car. I barely have a chance to protest before she's driving off. My chance is gone. How will I get to lee in time now?

"What do I do now?" I ask San, sitting in the living room with my head in my hands. "I won't make it and I'll be forever in debt to stupid Rick."

Santana strokes my hair. "We'll think of something." How could I let Mom get away? I should've stopped her. Several moments pass bye. "I got it!"

She's always the one with the great ideas and plans.

Hope tugs at me. "What is it?" Santana gets up and runs to my bedroom. She's gone for a couple of seconds before returning with my phone in her hand. Sitting down, she places it in my hand.

"You need to call him," she says. "Maybe, you can ask him for help. Maybe, he can drive you. It's the only way. I can't drive you – I'm grounded until summer for going to Sam's party. Rick's the only way."

"No, no!" I say immediately. "I am most definitely _not_ asking him for_ another _request so I can add ten more years to my debt to him." There's the pride thing kicking in again.

"Well, you _have _to." She pushes the phone closer to my hands. "If you don't, you'll make him look like a fool in front of his business partners and then he'll hate you _and_ you'll still be in debt to him. Wouldn't this be even worse than creating another debt? I mean, it's not even a big deal! You just need a ride."

I hate to admit it… but she's right.

"Are you sure about this?" I gulp and take the phone in my hand. San nods. I punch in his number and he picks up on the third ring. "Hey, Rick."

"_Mr. Corcoran_," he corrects. "It's _Mr._ Richard Corcoran to you. Why are you calling me? Is there a problem?" He sounds fairly concerned.

"Rick –Mr. Corcoran," I correct, "There's a _tiny_ problem." I hear him groan on the other side of the phone. "It's not _that_ big! I promise. I just need a ride. My mom took my car and now I can't get there."

"Couldn't you ask your friends or something?"

"No, they're busy. Besides, it's not like they'd have the time to drive me to the City and back. That's too much trouble. Can you give me a lift?"

After few moments pass, he finally says, "Fine. Be ready in an hour or something, I'll come. Now, don't call me again unless it's an emergency." After that, he hangs up on the phone.

I smile and turn to Santana. "He said yes! Now, I just have to pack up for the trip." For the next hour, Santana helps me pack clothes, bathroom supplies, shoes, money, and anything else I need for the birthday bash. I even throw in a couple of dresses just in case. My suitcase is full and I have just enough time to get myself ready. I put my hair in a bun and just throw on a long-sleeved white sweater, black sweatpants, and cozy boots.

"I need to go," San announces after I'm ready. "I have to get to my extra math class." She always takes extra subject over break or vacation. It explains why she's so smart and has solutions to any problem. I wish she'd rest for once, though. But, her parents won't stop pressuring her into getting into a good college.

"I'll walk you out," I say. The weather is bad outside. Snow is everywhere and the sky is a dark gray. We hug goodbye and say we'll see each other in a couple of days. I lock the front door and make myself a coffee. I'm almost done when there's a knock at my door. _Rick_.

He's standing outside, snow covering his expensive coat. His hair is wet and his lips are almost blue. He's freezing. I gasp.

"Rick! Get inside!" I say, ushering him in. I touch his arm and it's so cold I let go. I shut the door and turn back to him. He's creating a pool of melted snow on the floor. Mom will kill me. I get his jacket and hang it, along with his scarf and gloves.

Rushing to the kitchen, I make him some hot chocolate. I push him to sit right next to the fireplace so he can defrost. I shove the hot cup in his hand and force him to drink up. After he drinks and his lips turn back to its normal color, I start asking him questions.

"What happened to you?" I ask.

"The weather outside is horrible," he simply replies. "We can't go out, now. It's too dangerous. My car almost slipped off the road three times. The wind is too strong, too."

"But, your birthday bash. What're we going to do?"

"It's not until few days, we'll be fine," he responds. He hugs himself to get warmer. He finishes his cup of hot chocolate.

The lights suddenly flicker and then shut off completely. The power is out. I groan. I know I should've bought some flashlights before this storm. I get up and take his cup and place it in the kitchen sink. I try to find any type of light, but all I find are some strawberry-scented candles.

When I return to Rick, he's shivering. I grab some blankets off the couch and wrap it around him. I light the candles over the living room so we can at least see. At least, we have the fireplace too.

"Is that better?" I ask. He looks a little confused. I wonder why. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"Why are you – never mind," he says, looking down. He wraps the blanket closer around himself. I hate when people do that. They bring something up and then they say "never mind" or "I can't tell you".

"What is it?" I ask.

The only sound is the fire crackling. It's a peaceful, cozy night-not counting the blizzard outside.

"Why are you helping me after all the rude things I've said and done to you?" Rick says quietly. I watch him – his deep chocolate eyes, wavy brown hair – the typical hot brunette guy. But I also see his walls – his walls that are so high, nobody can get through them. Something really bad must've happened to get him this protective of himself. He shuts everyone out.

"A wise man told me that even if you hate someone, you can never let them drown in sorrow while you're okay because that just means you're as low as them," I say silently, my eyes on the fire burning in the fireplace.

"Who told you that?" He asks.

"My father," I whisper, my voice cracking at the end."

"He is a smart man," Rick says. Tears well up in my eyes. It's not his fault. He doesn't know. He doesn't know that my father's… dead. He's not from this town where everyone knows everyone.

"He _was_ a smart man," I say. Rick realizes what I'm trying to say. Sympathy and pity are in his eyes – the same look everyone else gave me when they found out. Everybody's the same. The tears fall down my cheek without me even noticing.

But one thing is different about Rick.

Instead of speaking, he just pulls me in a hug. I'm so surprised that I think I stop breathing. My face is up against his shoulder and the fire reflects light on his body. My eyes are blurry from tears but my mouth is wide open. I can't believe he's hugging me.

"It's okay," he finally says. "I know how you feel. I lost my father, too." He strokes my hair. I didn't know that. His father died, too. Here I am, whining and crying while he's been through more shit that I ever had. Now I remember how Santana told me that he had to take over the company because of his father passing away. I hug him back and sob into his shoulder.

I cry for the both of us.

Never did I even think that this would _ever_ happen. Rick hugging me – not a fake hug either – a real hug. I feel so perfect in his arms. Everything would be all right if I stayed in his arms. Reality would mean nothing.

"My father used to hug me and stroke my hair like this when I was unhappy," I whisper. "He would always be there for me. He would be the one that attended all my school meetings, my soccer games, and he's the one who made my lunch. My mom used to be a normal mother, too. She used to read me stories and everything. Everything changed when my father died. After he passed away, all she ever did was lock herself up in her studio to avoid the pain. She was strong. Never once did she cry in front of me. We both miss him so much.

The pain gnaws at my heart. I miss my father. After he died, I've never talked about him. I've never told anyone about him. I didn't go to therapy or counseling to talk about him. I kept my feelings bottled up and here I am, spilling them to Rick – out of all the people.

"It's all right," he says. He soothes my back until I stop sobbing. We pull away from each other and I notice that his eyes are red, too. Had he been crying? I've never seen a man cry – not even my own father.

"Sorry for rambling about my father," I say, laughing light-heartedly as I wipe m eyes. I must look like hell right now. He doesn't seem to mind, though.

"It's fine." He cups my face in his hands. "If you ever need someone to cry to, I'll be here." He grins. "Wow, that sounded so corny."

"Yeah, it did," I grin. Leave it to Rick to make me cry, smile, and laugh within an hour.

"Now, enough crying," he orders. "Do you have a radio?" I nod, pointing to the radio up on top of the fireplace. He takes it and turns it on. The only thing I can hear is static. He moves the dial until he finds the local radio. At first, I think he's looking for the news, but he just skips past the weather and news. He finally stops at a slow song – _Kiss Me_ by Ed Sheeran.

What's he up to?

Rick grins and sets the radio back on top of the fire place, the slow song on full blast. He takes off his warm blankets and wraps them around me. He bows down on one knee with a hand extended. "Would you care for a dance, my lady?"

My eyes widen. He wants to _dance_ with me? I nod anyways and suddenly we're up in the middle of my living room. Candlelight is the only light guiding me to his face. He looks beautiful. I take his arm, placing my other hand on his shoulder. The blankets are still wrapped around me. The song is instrumental so far, but I hear lyrics comes on:

_Settle down with me, cover me up, and cuddle me in._

_Lie down with me, yeah. Hold me in your arms._

_Your heart's against my chest, lips pressed to my neck, I've fallen for your eyes but they don't know me yet._

And then something strange happens. This weird, tingling feeling – I can feel it inside my chest, around my fingers – on my entire body. What's going on? Am I getting dizzy? No, it's not that. I realize I'm smiling as Rick dances with me. And the it hits me. Do I like him?

_No_, I think. I push away the stupid thoughts and feeling. _I can't be_… _Can I? No way. Just because he listened to me does not automatically make me like him_. That's right. I continue dancing and following the lyrics:

_I'm cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms_.

This song is really nice. It sets the mood. I feel so hazy. Rick is smiling at me, his deep brown eyes glowing and his grin as big as it can go. The song keeps going on:

… _With this feeling I forget, I'm in love now_

_Kiss me, like you want to be loved, like you want to be loved, like you want to be loved. This feels like I've fallen in love …_

Suddenly, he's moving closer and closer. The lyrics are setting in with his actions. He's going to kiss me. He's going to kiss me! Our noses touch, and his breath is on my face. He smells like hot chocolate.

Our lips are just about to touch.

I pull away abruptly, realizing what I'm doing. He looks confused. "I-I have to f-feed my cat," I say before disappearing into the kitchen. I can hear the song coming to an end the living room, as Rick stands there alone.

I sit on the floor on the kitchen. I'm scared. It's not Rick's scaring me. The kiss isn't what I'm scared of either. Being, with a boy isn't the thing that's scaring me either.

It's that fact that I actually _wanted_ him to kiss me.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh wow I love this chapter. I wish I could have a romance like this one day, hehe.<br>**_

_**Anyway, Quinn is in deep trouble. Is she falling in love?**_

_**Okay, keep on reviews or pms or anything for more updates and to help the story goes on! Any of them are greatly appreciated. Thank you so much guys xD**_

_**Stay tune and find out what's going to happen in the next chapter! BYEBYE xD**_

_**P.S: I love Ed Sheeran. His voice and lyrics are like magic! Lol I am being dramatic haha, anyway I suggest you listen to the s**__**ong**__** Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran!**_

_**Now BYEBYE for real ;) (Yep, should just stop being so corny.)**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Our lips are just about to touch.**_

_**I pull away abruptly, realizing what I'm doing. He looks confused. "I-I have to f-feed my cat," I say before disappearing into the kitchen. I can hear the song coming to an end the living room, as Rick stands there alone.**_

_**I sit on the floor on the kitchen. I'm scared. It's not Rick's scaring me. The kiss isn't what I'm scared of either. Being, with a boy isn't the thing that's scaring me either.**_

_**It's that fact that I actually wanted him to kiss me.**_

* * *

><p>It sinks. Everything sinks in, finally. I didn't see it coming. I never would've see this coming. Rick <em>almost<em> kissed me. And the fact that I actually enjoyed it scares me more than anything else. It sinks in that I have feelings for him. Last time I liked someone, my best friend stabbed me in the back.

What will happen this time?

He doesn't even feel the same. Does he? No, he couldn't. Out of all the beautiful and rich girls, he couldn't like me. He has a company to run and he needs someone strong and all that – someone not me. He probably tried kissing me because of the spur of the moment.

It's been twenty minutes. The electricity has turned back on but I've been sitting on the white-tiled kitchen floor for twenty minutes. I'm a coward. How am I supposed to face him now?

My face is in my hands and my back is against the fridge. Why did I tell Rick I had to go feed my cat? I don't even have a cat. I wonder if he's still standing in the living room, or if he left. He couldn't have. There's a storm. Wait, what if my rejection caused him to angrily storm out?

Worried, I get up and dash to the living room only to find Rick sleeping peacefully on the couch with the fireplace still crackling with fire. He looks so calm and serene. It fills me up with regret. I should've let him kiss me before I ran away.

_It's not too late_, a voice in the back of my head says. I push that thought away. I don't want to violate him while he's sleeping. That'd be creepy.

But he looks so tempting to touch.

He looks young when he's sleeping. The crease on his forehead that's always there is gone. His face is acne-free and has better complexion than mine. I don't realize that I'm brushing his hair away from his eyes until his eyebrow twitches.

I pull back immediately. It would be so awkward if he wakes up at this moment. I owe him a kiss. He took all the courage to try to kiss me and I just shot him down and ran away. Besides, he's unconscious. No harm done.

Taking a gulp, I slowly inch my face to his. His head is turned the other way so I take his face in my face and give him a quick peck. I smile mischievously. I feel so badass.

His eyes suddenly open. Dumbly, I smack his face. Rick shouts in pain and jolts up. I gasp, covering my own mouth in surprise.

"Why did you hit me?!" he yells, clutching his cheek from the red mark that's starting to form under his hand.

"Um, m-mosquito," I shrug. He gives me a strange look – maybe a glare – as if he's actually challenging the idea that I really hit him because a mosquito was on his face. "You're welcome," I add.

"For what?!"

"Saving your blood from being sucked," I reply nonchalantly. "Now, come on. Get up. Let's eat some dinner." It's back. There's no awkwardness. We're back to the way it was before the whole candlelight scene. Rick's back to his cold, rich douche demeanor, and I'm back to the girl who hates him. I'm glad. I'd hate it to be any other way.

I walk to the kitchen with Rick hot on my heels, still rubbing his cheek. Maybe, I shouldn't have hit him that hard. He mutters something about when the lights had came back on. I glance over at him. His hair is all messed up. I didn't notice before, but he's wearing his suit. _Of course_, I think as I roll my eyes. _He just can't wear anything else_.

"Give me something to eat." He orders, taking a seat at the island. Already, I hate his tone. He's in my house and yet he's ordering _me_ around.

Just because he's a guest and because mom says to always be nice to guests (and try not to strangle them) I smile and say, "What would you like to eat?"

"Nothing you give me will delight my taste buds. Cheap food just doesn't do for me," he says, faking a yawn. My eyebrow twitches in anger. _Okay, stay calm. Stay calm_, I repeat in my head. _He's just mad because you rejected his sorry ass_.

"Oh yeah?" I challenge, squinting my eyes.

"I'm certain."

He asked for it. I still remember a dish Granny taught me before she moved out of New York and to Boston. Rick's going to wish he never challenged me on my cooking skills .You want to bet?"

He arches his eyebrow, clearly amused. "Sure. What's the deal?" His arms are crossed now – probably trying to look more superior – but all it's doing are making my eyes wander to his flexing muscles. _Focus_, I scold myself.

"Whoever makes the greatest dinner wins," I say, crossing my own arms. "The other person will taste it and we both have to be honest and tell each other if our meals taste good." I rest my hands on the granite counter of the island. "Deal?"

"Deal," He smirks. I smirk back, _he's so going down_.

I show him all the food and materials he needs to know. I bet he's never touched a pan in his life. He was born into richness – probably never cooked. That's why I feel so confident about this bet. I grin to myself just thinking about winning – earning a strange look from Rick. I am _so_ going to win this bet.

While I'm boiling my pasta and Rick is making some sort of soup, he suddenly asks, "Wait, what's the reward? If one of us wins, what do we get?"

"Hm," I say, my wooden spoon in mid-air. "Whatever the other person wants, I guess. Is that okay with you?"

"Fine by me," He smirks. He continues his recipe after that and I continue my recipe. Granny had taught me this delicious pasta recipe. Every family gathering over holidays, she would make it. My mouth waters from even thinking about it.

I scoop up the strings of the pasta and rinse them before adding pepper and spices. I pull out the meat sauce I had been working on while my pasta was boiling and spread it over the disj. For the final touch, I add some mint leaves for good breath. It'd be so embarrassing if Rick points out I have bad breath.

"Done!" He announces. I hear him place his dish on the island counter. I bring mine over, too. Peaking at his dish, I realize it's soup. _So average_, I think while smirking. _Bit it smells pretty good_.

"I'm done, too," I say.

We place our dishes side by side. Both look so extravagant together – unlike Rick and I. he hands me a spoon and I hand him a fork. We switch places and I take a sip of his. There's bread next to his soup so I bite down on the soft bread and sip more of his creamy soup.

To say it's delicious would be an understatement of the century.

It's so delicious that I'm scarfing everything down in a matter of seconds. How did he learn how to cook? It's so scrumptious. I underestimated that boy. Looks like a dumb snotty kid but cooks like a pro.

"enjoying yourself?" He's resting on his elbow on the tabletop, staring at me with an amused glee in his eyes. _Never let your guard down with the enemy_, I scold myself.

I remove the spoon from my mouth and place it on the plate mat. I push a string of hair behind my hair. "It's okay," I shrug.

He chuckles – the best sound I've heard tonight. "Really? It kind of looked like you were eating like you were on the brink of starvation."

Red fills my cheeks. "Shut up. It just isn't too bad for a rich kid."

"Well, I have my hidden talents," he muses. "You're not too bad either for such a," he pauses, stroking his chin, "average girl." Rick starts chuckling again.

I pick up some flour that I had used for my pasta and throw it at him. He's caught off guard and his face gets white powder all over it. I start cracking up as he stands still for a couple of moments, rendering what just happened in his brain. I bet he never thought that he would get flour thrown at him. I giggle at the thought.

I'm so busy laughing that I don't see flour flying across the kitchen and onto my chest. I look down at my sweater. _Ah man! This was brand new, too!_ I think angrily. I grab a fistful of flour and rub it all over his suit. Once I see his expression, I regret doing so. _Note to self, never anger a rich guy by ruining his expensive suit_.

"You are so going down, _Miss Quinn Fabray_!" He says. He used my full name. he's probably fuming with anger on the inside. He starts to lunge at me but I start running around to the other side of the kitchen. "Get back here!"

"Why would I _ever_ listen to you?" I laugh, running once again as he tries to grab my arm. It's a close centimeter but I move quickly on time. Before I know it, we're throwing flour and everything we can find at each other. It's so much fun I don't even realize the mess we're making.

Rick is running towards me but he slips over some broken eggs on the ground. It's the most hilarious thing I've ever seen. I laugh for ten minutes straight as his cheeks redden. Thinking it's time I help him up. I rush over but being clumsy person I am – I trip on top of him.

I can feel the vibration from Rick's laughter as his chest falls up and down. My cheeks as red as I try to grasp any last piece of my reputation. But then I wonder why I care. I start laughing along with him. It _was_ pretty funny.

We're laughing and laughing until our sides start aching. After, I just lay on top of him. The mood changes instantly.

I get on my knees. "Oh, I'm sorry! Didn't mean to sit on you."

He awkwardly laughs and gets on his knees too. "It's fine." His eyes set on mine and the magnetic force is back. I want to kiss him. We're inching closer before he pulls away. "We should probably clean up."

Rejection. Pure rejection. It burns.

"Y-Yeah, we should. My mom will kill me if she finds the kitchen in this shape," I say, hoping he doesn't catch the sadness and disappointment in my voice. I stand up and start picking things off the ground.

"I'll get the kitchen," he says. "You go clean up." He's being surprisingly nice. His eyes show nothing but kindness. Does he feel guilty? "Just bring me something to put on."

I nod slowly and head out of the kitchen. I bite my cheek in the hallway to stop the tears from falling out. Rick rejected me. He doesn't feel the way I feel. I knew it. Is this how he felt when I pulled away earlier? It feels so cruel.

Stepping into the shower, I let my tears out as I clean the flour and egg off my body. I wash myself twice before heading into my bedroom to change. When I try to find something to wear, I curse mom for putting all my comfortable clothes in the laundry. All I have are undergarments.

I walk to mom's bedroom in my bra and underwear and pick out one of her t-shirt and shorts. They're a bit big and baggy on me, thankfully. I kind of feel happy she decided to put all my clothes in the laundry. It gives me a chance to show off my body to him – one of the only things I'm proud about myself.

"Here," I say once I reach back into the kitchen. It's only half clean. I throw him some of dad's old clothes. "They used to belong to my dad."

"Thanks," Rick smiles genuinely. "But you don't have to give me your dad's clothes. I mean, they're special to you, right?" He starts running his eyes over my body.

"It's fine," I grin, noticing his eyes and how Rick actually listened when I was rambling about my dad earlier. It's a shame he doesn't like me. The thought brings a frown back to my face. I feel tears coming on. "Um, you go shower. I'll take care of the rest."

I don't want him to see me crying again. I don't want to appear weak.

He nods and walks out of the kitchen. I mop up the floors and parts of the countertops that he had missed. Everything else seemed to be cleaned up pretty good. _Again, not too bad for a rich kid_, I think. When I hear the shower running off, I microwave our dishes and set it up on the island.

When he returns, my jaw drops for a split-second. It always surprises me when I see him without a suit. He looks like a normal teenager without it.

"I-I heated our meals if you're still hungry," I say. I get us some water with ice and place everything on the island. I take a seat.

"I would love to continue our little fight – which I was winning by the way – but my stomach feels like it's eating itself alive," Rick grins, taking a seat next to me. "I haven't even tasted your pasta yet."

"Well, be prepared. You are about to be blown away."

I don't start eating his soup. I watch for his reaction. He spins some pasta onto his fork and into his mouth. His eyes widen a fraction, but I catch it anyways.

"Told you it would be delicious," I brag. Satisfied with his reaction, I continue drinking his delicious soup without containing myself. "And you said you would actually win this contest."

"I never said it was delicious. It's okay. Could use better spices, though." He continues eating my pasta, pushing his comments aside.

"Denial," I point out. "Besides, if you had tasted it while it was fresh off the stove, you would've said otherwise. I make a mean meat sauce. You can't deny that, can you?" He just chuckles. "Hey, who taught you this? It's pretty good for a rich kid."

"Um, my father," Rick says. His voice is low. I've never seen him talking about something that's ever made him vulnerable. I realize he's never opened up to me. I told him about my father, but he's never told me about his. "It's an old British recipe."

"I knew you were British!" I say, trying to lighten the mood. "I could _so_ tell. I have skills. Just like my amazing cooking skills that you keep denying." I don't want to push him into telling me about his father when he doesn't want to talk about it.

"Whatever you say."

The rest of the dinner we switch jokes and talk about random things like the weather and what not. It's a comfortable conversation with light-hearted quirks. It feels nice. I push away all negative thoughts and just enjoy the moment.

I hope it stays like this.

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><p><em><strong>Yep, another chapter I hope you guys like it. Now I'm feeling hungry, which explains all the food haha! And nothing serious yet just some light stuff so be ready for some more goodness, now I'm being cliche xD<strong>_

_**Anyway, thank you for your support that helps me so keep it up guys! **_

_**I'm out! See you later! BYEBYE xD**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Hope you guys like it !**

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><p>"<em><strong>I knew you were British!" I say, trying to lighten the mood. "I could so tell. I have skills. Just like my amazing cooking skills that you keep denying." I don't want to push him into telling me about his father when he doesn't want to talk about it.<strong>_

"_**Whatever you say."**_

_**The rest of the dinner we switch jokes and talk about random things like the weather and what not. It's a comfortable conversation with light-hearted quirks. It feels nice. I push away all negative thoughts and just enjoy the moment.**_

_**I hope it stays like this.**_

* * *

><p>After dinner, I try to convince Rick to do the dishes while I clean up the table and set up a place to sleep but he refuses. He says he's never washed a dish in his life and doesn't plan on it anytime soon.<p>

"You have to do your part of the share!" I say to him, while I hold a rag so I can clean up the table. "It isn't fair that I clean everything _and_ set up a place to sleep."

"Well, then I'll set up a place to sleep! I loathe washing dishes. Anything but that," he says, crossing his arms. His eyebrows are knitted together and his bottom lips pushed out in a pout. If this were any other situation, I would've gushed over his cute expression, but right now – he was just plain irritating.

"No! you don't even know where the air mattress is!" I retort. "If you don't do the dishes, you won't get a place to sleep."

He sits down, crossing his arms. "Fine with me."

I throw the cleaning rag at his face. "You are so _irritating_! Fine, I'll do the dishes. You do the table. It sure as hell better be sparkling clean." I turn and head to the sink.

We quietly cleaned up for the next ten minutes. I wipe my wet hands with a towel and indicate Rick to follow me as I leave the kitchen. The air mattress is in the closet in the hallway. I open it and rummage around useless things that Mom and I just throw in there.

"That's strange," I say as I rummage through some tennis-related things in a box. I push the box aside and look in the next one.

"What is?" He asks, standing behind me.

"I can't seem to find it," I frown. I go through ten-to-fifteen boxes but I find nothing. I could've sworn Mom had thrown it in here after Uncle Jim had come to stay over. I can't think of anywhere else it could be in. "I guess you'll have to sleep on the couch."

"The couch?" He says, like it's a foreign word. _Here we go again_, I think as I shut the closet door. "I am _not_ sleeping on the couch."

"Well, that's all you're going to get."

He scoffs. "I don't think so. I am _not_ going to sleep on," he points back to the couch, "_that_ hideous thing. It will kill my back!" He scrunches up his face. "I'm the heir to a hotel business. If you break my back, you're breaking the entire business. All my customers will blame you and the employees will –"

"Okay!" I put my hands up in surrender. "I get it. Save me the speech, would you?" I close the closet. "You can sleep in my room."

"_Your_ room?"

"Well, yeah. Where else would you sleep?" I ask, turning to face him. His wet hair seems to be dying from his shower. His hair look silkier than mine. I scrunch up my face in a _tiny_ fit of jealousy.

"What about your mom's room?" Rick suggests. "I mean, she's not going to be here for a while. Why not use her room?"

I start laughing. He gives me a why-are-you-laughing look. "I am _not_ going to let _you_ sleep in _my_ mother's room! That's just creepy! Even I barely go in her room. You are _definitely_ not going to sleep there." I walk to my bedroom and open the door slightly, sticking my head in to see if there's anything weird in my room.

I'm right. All my clothes are scattered around from packing and that includes some lingerie. My face reddens a little. What if he saw those? That'd be one moment I would_ not_ like to live in.

I shut the door closed.

"What? I thought I was going to sleep on your bed," he says, confused. He tries to push past me to the door. I put my back to the door and hold the wall. "What are you doing?"

"Er, there seems to be a problem." Wait, why should I even explain to Rick? It is _my_ room and _my _house. I can order him to sleep on the couch for all I care. For once, I'm in control. "You're sleeping on the couch."

"What?" He says, terrified.

"I don't want you in my room," I say, crossing my arms. "I'm not letting a guy inside my room. Especially one I have no romantic connection with – or any connection with for that matter." I can't believe I said that.

"Oh, you want to play that low, huh?" He smirks. "You're the one who used me to get back at your friends. Who's the immature one now?"

I ignore him and trudge to the living room. The fire is still crackling, the heat radiating off to me. The strawberry-scented candles are still burning – a sweet fruity smell in the air. The memory of Rick and I dancing sinks back into my mind. The almost kiss.

Rick tugs my shoulder.

I snap out of my little reminiscence.

"Why are you so red?" he asks me. I slap my hands to my cheeks and sure enough, they're warm as hot buns out the oven. I rub my hands to my cheeks, trying to make my blush fade.

"What do you want?" I ask, placing my hands to my sides. I play around with the fabric of my shorts.

"If I sleep here, then you have to," he says. He takes a seat on the couch. The fire lightens up his face and I can see all his facial features – one by one. He lies down and spreads a blanket around himself. His brown eyes stare right at me.

"And _why_ do I have to?" I narrow my eyes down to his.

"Because it's fair then," he replies, snuggling under his blanket. But then he gets up and fluffs his cushion before lying back down. "Then, both of us will suffer tomorrow morning when our backs ache."

"And that's a good thing?" I put on my best-forced frown. I can't help it when my smile escapes. I don't know why but I get a tingly feeling. I actually want to sleep here with him – well on the opposite couch of him. Crossing my arms, I say, "Fine. If you really want me to suffer with you, I guess I'll _have_ to stay with you."

I don't know if I'm imaging it but Rick has a smile on his face as I lay across on the couch. After I get comfortable under the blankets, I stare at the ceiling.

And then the awkward silence sets in.

Even though we're sleeping feet apart, it still feels awkward and tense. I can hear the grandfather clock ticking in the corner. _Tick-tock_. I can feel the sweat on my palms. Everything is intensified – my heartbeat, my breathing, Rick's breathing. My five sense are at it's best.

_Tick-tock_. _Ba-dump_, _ba-dump_. Can Rick hear my heart? Why is my heart even beating so fast? Does he think I'm a freak? I slowly inch my head to my side to see if he's looking at weirdly.

He's not.

His eyes are shut. I notice how long his eyelashes are. Why do all the guys get things like long eye lashes? And they don't even know how lucky they are. I smile when he suddenly scrunches his face. Probably having a bad dream or something.

And then in that peaceful moment, as I fall asleep watching Rick with the fire crackling brightly, I realized that I had completely fallen for a rich asshole.

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><p>The next morning, I wake by the smell of bacon and eggs.<p>

On a normal day, I would've slept in just a bit more because Mom would always leave me some for when I woke up. But she isn't here, it's only him. And because it's Rick – my current possibly crush – I jolt awake.

My hair immediately sticks out in every way possible. _Thanks, morning hair_. _I bet Rick just would love to see me like this_, I think sarcastically.

I bring my hand up to my mouth. My breath stinks. I never did get how girls just woke up and talked and kissed their boyfriends. I mean, unless you sleep with gum in your mouth, I'm pretty sure nobody wakes up with fresh breath.

Before doing anything else, I rush to the bathroom and brush my teeth and comb through my hair. When my hair refuses to remain decent, I throw it up in a bun and check my face before walking to the kitchen casually – like I just woke up.

"Finally, you're awake!"

Rick's moving the pan around and stirring when I walk in. his hair is in every direction – very messy – but it looks natural on him. It actually looks better on him. He's still in my dad's clothes – which he's pulling off pretty well – and by the looks of it, he's making breakfast.

I fake a yawn and stretch my arms to try to look cute. But the plan backfires. "Ow!" My back aches, just like he said it would.

"Your back too?" Rick says, placing the scrambled eggs and toast into a plate. "I swear, something's wrong with your sofa. It's no different to hard, cold cement surface." He sets his plate and sets one for me on the dining table.

"You made breakfast?" I say.

"Yeah," he grins, taking a seat. I hesitantly take a seat. "I mean, of course I know how to cook. You saw last night. I'm always alone in my apartments and places, so I taught myself how to cook. I'm always moving around for business, I should at least know how to cook. Take-out gets real sickening."

I pick at my food – just in case he poisoned it – before eating it. It's actually really good. Even Mom doesn't make the eggs so fluffy and the bacon so crispy. "It's good."

"I know," he responds, smirking. He takes a bit of his food. "So, the blizzard's almost completely stopped. The roads are being plowed. I think we can get going today. The bash is in a couple of days. Don't forget our purpose."

And in less than a second, he's already into his business-like tone.

"Well, I'm all ready to go. I packed already." I crunch on the bacon. I love bacon. "But, we might want to check the driveway and your car. I mean, it snowed at least over two feet."

"I'll go get shoveling. You get everything ready. Oh yea," he gets up and disappears before running back, "here." He hands me a packet of papers.

"What's this?" I ask. I take the packet as I put down my fork. Running through the pages, I catch a few glances at the words. _Say hello_. _Greet_, _shake hands_ – _ask polite questions_.

"A script. _Your _script."

"Why would I need a script?"

"Well, for instance, I notice that you like to surprise me," he says. "I followed your plan, and you ended up throwing in a big statement to the news saying we're together. If I don't make you a script – with strict instructions – who knows what you will do?"

I grin sheepishly. "Don't worry. What else could I do that could run our situation down even deeper?"

"You could – you know what? I'm not even going to say anything so I don't give you any ideas." He puts his plate in the sink and turns back to me. "Memorize the script. I'll go get the car ready. Be ready in at least an hour."

"Roger that." I finish up my breakfast, too.

I spend the next hour or so grabbing all my bags and all the things I need. I'm in jeans, a baggy sweater, and a thick jacked with a red scarf around my neck and the hood of the coat enclosing my head. I go over the script over one last time. I'm pretty sure I have almost everything covered: who the people are, how important they are, what I should say to them. If it weren't for the fact Rick basically had the right to sue me for the incident at the hotel, I would've actually had fun at his birthday bash.

Suddenly, the door opens, letting a cold draft in and some snow. Rick's standing there – shovel in one hand – and completely shivering. "Come on! Before the snow picks up speed again!"

I nod quickly and stuff the scrip inside my jacket before grabbing my suitcase and running outside – making sure to lock the door first. The pathway is shoveled so it's not that hard to get to his car. I almost slip a few times, but I catch myself. I throw my luggage in the truck – no thanks to Rick who just gets in the car – but I let it slide because he _did_ shovel everything.

And then it occurs to me that I've never been in his car.

My excitement reaches to another level. At first, I was excited to be going on a road-trip with Rick _alone_. But to also know that we're going to be traveling in a _luxury _car? That's just epic.

I open the passenger door to his car and hop in, the fans blowing warm air into myface. Of course, his car is a Mercedes Benz.

"A Mercedes Benz S class?" I ask as I put my seat belt on. "Nice."

He looks like a marshmallow under his layers and layers of clothing. I gave him all my dad's clothes that fit him. I didn't want him to freeze again. "How do you know exactly the name of this car?" He starts up the car and slowly goes down the road – careful of the slippery roads.

"Well," I say, "when I was about sixteen, I did all this research about cars because my Mom promised me if I passed my driver's test she would chip in some money to get me a decent car. That's why I know so much."

"Interesting," he says.

"Why?"

"Most girls around that age usually search up famous brands of makeup and what type of clothes you should wear – but here you were, learning about cars." He's grinning now, clearly amused.

And then I say the oldest corny line in the book. "I'm not _most girls_." He starts laughing and I join him. In love stories, the boy always compares the girl to most girls and she always replies with the same line.

The drive goes pretty smooth. I mostly eat the bags of food I brought ninety-percent of the time. He puts on some classical music – which sounds pretty okay – and keeps his eyes focused on the road. At some point, it gets quiet and we just talk. We talk about our lives, hobbies, ourselves. It almost feels like a date… except it's not.

I don't even realize but I think I actually starting falling for him more. I learn about his habits – scratching his chin when he's nervous, running his hands through his hair when he's frustrated – and how he hates seafood. I learn about how he had to have a private tutor while taking over the business because he dropped out of college to run the business.

We don't talk about his father.

I stay away from that topic. I stay away from prying too deep into his life that it's too annoying.

Before any of us knows it, we're in New York again.

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><p><em><strong>Hey guys, sorry I took longer to update this time than usual. I had some stressful week so I stayed away from any of this and then this weekend just came up with more drama!<strong>_

_**Anyway, thanks for all the messages of telling me update and supporting me!**_

_**FAVORITE. REVIEW. LIKES. ALERT. READ.**_

_**See ya! BYEBYE xD**_


	12. an

Lol no this isnt an update but am getting there doe dont worrry...

Hey there... sorry i havent been updating any of my stories cuz am still laptopless ? ﾟﾘﾭand am writing this from my phone but ill update as soon as i get a new one so thank you for all of you who still waiting... love you guys, see you soon!


	13. Chapter 12

**_CHAPTER 12_**

_**The drive goes pretty smooth. I mostly eat the bags of food I brought ninety-percent of the time. He puts on some classical music – which sounds pretty okay – and keeps his eyes focused on the road. At some point, it gets quiet and we just talk. We talk about our lives, hobbies, ourselves. It almost feels like a date… except it's not.**_

_**I don't even realize but I think I actually starting falling for him more. I learn about his habits – scratching his chin when he's nervous, running his hands through his hair when he's frustrated – and how he hates seafood. I learn about how he had to have a private tutor while taking over the business because he dropped out of college to run the business.**_

_**We don't talk about his father.**_

_**I stay away from that topic. I stay away from prying too deep into his life that it's too annoying.**_

_**Before any of us knows it, we're in New York again.**_

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><p>-s-<p>

Rick's birthday bash is today. We returned to New York City a few days ago. He checked us into the same suite again. Over the days, we didn't really speak. He always left for work and I watched television, went on my phone, or slept. I also didn't mind calling in room service whenever I wanted, or te fact that the hotel has arcades and an indoor pool.

I stare into the dresser mirror and comb through my hair. I notice some split ends forming. _I need a trim soon_, I think.

I'm in a light orange dress that goes up to my knee. It's tight up to my torso before it frills out. There are no sleeves. This is what I'm wearing to the birthday bash.

I feel so insecure, though. Am I dressed too much or too little? I'm too scared to ask Richard. It feels like after he's been so nice to me at my house, he's back to his old self, the cold-hearted CEO of the hotel business.

"Quinn, are you ready?" He says through the door of my guest room.

I jump startled, and regain my composure. I put the comb down. I hadn't done anything to my hair since it was behaving today, so I just let it down and just put in some clips here and there. "Yes, I'm ready."

Unblocking the door, I see Rick standing there in a dark gray suit holding an orange tie. How'd he know I was wearing an orange dress? I eye him weirdly. He just smirks. _Yeah, definitely back to his old self,_ I think sadly.

"You want to help me put this on, _girlfriend_?" He asks, holding the tie out to me. Now, I'm ready confused. Is he making fun of me? Is this some kind of joke? I had already apologized about the last incident.

"Can't you do it yourself?" I ask with a straight face.

"Well, we're going to have to act like a couple later. Let's get in some practice now so we don't mess up. We wouldn't want to get caught, right?" He says, the smirk never leaving his face.

I snatch the tie out of his hand and wrap it around his neck, tight. He coughs and I let it go a little. I angrily fix the tie into place. Why couldn't he just be nice? Why was he so bipolar that he couldn't act nice to me unless we were alone?

When I'm almost done with the tie, I look up and freeze. He's staring down at me with the most intense look ever. I gasp. My hands freeze on his tie. His eyes look so… _sincere_. I realize I'm breathing hard now. What? I try to calm my breathing but he's still staring at me and I don't know why but it's keeping me frozen into place.

His hands go up and rest on my hands on his neck. It stays there for a moment and I'm so confused that my mind is blank. He moves my hands from him and says, "Are you done?"

I snap back into reality and jump away. "Y – Yeah. I'm done." Without meeting his eyes, I go back into my room to grab my coat and phone. When I'm about to reach my coat, I stop. _What was that_? It needs to stop. The awkward moments when we both just stay in place and this weird feeling is in the air. I don't like the feeling.

Maybe I should confront Rick about it. But then I think maybe not. It's already so awkward between us after what happened at my house.

I shrug it off and head back into the hallway. I don't have time for silly imaginations. I don't want to give myself false hope and just like Rick even more. It's time to put m feelings away. I nod and tell myself, _you don't need him. You don't need anybody_.

* * *

><p>-s-<p>

He is waiting at the door for me. My heels kind of make me tall as him, but not so much. We head out of his suite and into the elevator. It's tense. The air feels so thick that when the elevator opens again, I feel so relieved that I run out of the elevator.

The party is at some famous hall that Rick told me about. I didn't really pay attention when he told me about it. There is a sleek, black car outside the hotel, which I think is for us. I hop into the backseat… only to find a stranger in it.

"Um, who are you?" I ask the dark-haired man in the car. He's handsome and young – cute, actually. But what was he doing in the car? Was he one of Rick's friends?

He chuckles. "_Me_? Who are you? You're the one in my car."

"I don't think so. This car is Rick's, isn't it?"

"No, honey. This is my car. I'm Finn." The stranger takes out his hand for me to shake. "Finn Wittrock. Just kidding. I'm Finn Hudson."

I smile at his joke. Maybe all rich guys weren't so rude. I shake his hand as I grin. "I'm Quinn. Sorry for my intrusion. I didn't mean to hop into a stranger's car. No hard feelings, right?"

The door suddenly opens and Rick stands there. "Quinn, there you are. I kept trying to tell you that our car was on the side but you just ran into this car. Get out." I listen and get out to his side. He puts his head back in the car. "I'm so sorry – Finn?"

"So you're the _Rick_," Finn says, his voice cold and hard now. What happened to his goofy smile and fun personality earlier? He just sounded like he was staring at the person he hated the most.

"_Finn_," Rick says in a mutual tone. "How long has it been?" He doesn't sound too happy. Why do they both sound so hateful to each other? Are they brothers? _No, they don't have the same last name_.

"Years, hasn't it?" Finn says through gritted teeth.

Their expressions scare me. I tug on Rick's shoulder and when he looks over, his expression falters to a softer one. "Let's go, Rick," I whisper. "We don't want to be late for your party."

"Of course, _dear_," He replies. Wait, what? Why is he acting all lovey-dovey? "Finn, I see you've met my girlfriend, Quinn. We'll see you later, okay?"

I see Finn keeps his fists clenched by his side. "Bye, Quinn. Nice meeting you." He throws me a smile. "And, _see you soon_, Rick."

Rick slams the car door – a little too hard – and we both walk to the car we were supposed to be in. he takes a seat with me in the backseat ad he remains silent, calming his breathing. I don't say anything. I think it might be a touchy topic with him. I remain silent to the ride there.

Throughout the ride, I think about Finn. Who could he possibly be to enrage the oungest billionaire on Earth? Is he a past friend that ended their friendship roughly? About a million possibilities run through my mind.

I'm in the middle of one when the chauffer opens my side of the car door. I thank him and step out only to find raindrops hit my head. I stand before a beautiful tall building with all the lights on. It's starting to drizzle and it feels amazing. The air smells like wet pavements and lights blur into one.

* * *

><p>-s-<p>

New York City is beautiful under the rain.

I would stay here a bit longer if it wasn't for the fact that Rick was already inside and waving over to me to come inside. I ran inside and thankfully my dress or hair isn't ruined too much.

He gives his name and party name and the person at the desk gives him a room number. He walks to the elevator and I step in with him. The doors close and leave us to ourselves.

"Who's Finn?" I blurt out.

Rick looks a bit taken back. "Nobody important."

"Oh," I say, disappointed into not being able to get information out of Rick. If he wouldn't tell me, I'd have to take matters into my own hands.

"Now, remember everything on the script? The people and what you're supposed to say to them? Don't mess up on this. It's too important," He informs me. "Just remember the person I told you about. Madam Sue."

"Thanks for the encouragement. You're such a good boyfriend," I say sarcastically. "No pressure, right?"

"I'm serious, Quinn."

"Sorry," I say as the elevator doors open and lead us down a hallway. There are two, white French doors at the end of the hallway – where I'm guessing we'll be going. There are two guards at the doors and they open each door for us.

The first thing I notice is an orchestra playing on the side of the large hall. Violins and flutes. There are people chatting and drinking wine. Some are dancing in the middle. The room has large windows draped with light pink curtains. There is a large chandelier on the ceiling. Snacks and drinks are served by waiters, who walk around holding large trays. It smells delicious.

"You ready?" He asks me as he slips his hand into mine.

I'm surprised at first but then realize we're a couple now – well, pretend couple. I firmly hold his hand. "Ready."

Rick leads me to people I should talk to. We talk to non-important people about small things. We try to dodge their questions about our relationship as most as possible. He does most of the talking, thankfully. It's mostly talk about business anyways.

And then it's my turn.

We're walking towards Madam Sue – an important lady that's supposed to make an upcoming business deal with Rick's company. I don't know who she is personally but she's the most powerful European lady in the economy. She runs almost every chain of business in Europe and in Asia even though she's not Asian but she takes over the business in Korea, China, and Japan. I heard she even controls Thailand resorts and what not.

"_She's in her late fifties but she's not to underestimated_," Rick had warned me earlier. As I grew closer to her, I got more scared. "Just act like a couple in front of her. She'll be leaving for Japan in a couple of days, anyways."

"Hello, Madam Sue," Rick greets politely. He takes her hand and kisses it. "It's been a while."

Madam Sue doesn't crack a smile with her completely red lips. She has thick eyeliner, which makes her eyes seem even scarier. Her not so long, blonde hair is into a tight bun at the top of her hair. She's wearing a dark purple dress with a fur coat on. "Rick," she says. "It has been a while."

"Yes, it has, Madam Sue."

She turns to me and my eyes wide. "Is this the girl you were talking about?" Madam Sue moves closer to stares straight at me.

"Yes, Madam Sue, it is. Isn't she beautiful?" Rick says, a nervous look on his face. He puts an arm around me and squeezes.

And then she cracks a smile. Her eyes become teary. "She reminds me just of my daughter-in-law." She takes my hands. "Do you mind if I talk to you alone?"

What? Wait a minute. Rick never had this in his script. I stare at him and he just nods. My eyes widen and glare at him. He just nods and mouths to go.

"S – Sure." I respond to her. Madam Sue grins and takes my hand and pulls me along to a side table in the room. She gets a waiter to get us some European crackers of some brand I don't know. A waiter brings a basket full of them and sets it between us.

"What's your name?" Madam Sue asks me.

"Q – Quinn. Quinn Fabray." I answer.

"Don't be scared, Quinn. I don't bite," she jokes, chuckling. Madam Sue pushes the crackers to me. "Here, take some. They're really good."

"Thank you." I take a cracker and chew. It's actually really good. I eat some more crackers before I look up and realize she is staring at me with a smile. She's resting her head on her arm and leaning on the table. I cough when I see her staring at me.

Madam Sue looks startled and hands me a glass of water. I chug it down and sigh with relief when I'm done. She looks at me worriedly and asks, "Are you okay?"

I nod. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry for the weird staring," she says, apologizing with a smile. "It's just you remind me of my daughter-in-law so much."

"Oh, really? Where is she?"

"She's… _dead_."

My eyes widen for the millionth time this night. "I – I'm so sorry." I take her hands. "I didn't mean to bring back painful memories. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she says with a wry smile. She runs her hands over mine. Her hands are soft and smell like lilac. Do all old women smell like that?  
>"She died in a car accident. Or so we think. My son, her, and their children went on a road trip. They never returned." A tear drips down her cheek, which she quickly wipes away.<p>

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I say from the bottom of my hear. I pull her in for a hug and she hugs me back. We hug for a moment before we pull away.

"I've always wanted a daughter so when my son got married, I was so happy. His wife and I got along pretty quickly. Soon, she got pregnant and had a beautiful baby boy and soon a girl. Police found their car on the side of the road, but they were never found. It's been a cold case since."

I find tears in my eyes, too. Imagine losing almost half your family. I hold her hands. "That sounds miserable. I am so sorry. I bet your daughter-in-law is in a better place, now."

"Thank you, Quinn," Madam Sue says. "I feel like you were sent to me. You look just like her. Maybe, we're meant to be good friends. Maybe I'll stick around in America."

I grin. "I think we are." She and I laugh and share some jokes and small chat. She's pretty cool for an old lady. My grandmother died before I could meet her so Madam Sue really patched up that empty hole in my heart.

I'm still talking to her when someone taps my shoulder. I think it's Rick but when I turn around I find Finn standing there.

"Hello Madam Sue," Finn greets her and kisses her hand. "May I steal this beautiful young lady for a while?"

"You may, Finn," she responds. "but don't you try anything. You're quite known for your charms. Don't try anything funny." He chuckles but doesn't respond as he takes my hand and drags me to the place where everyone's dancing.

"What are we doing here?" I ask him as he puts my hand in his and places my other hand on his left shoulder. He slips his free hand on my waist and starts swaying.

"What do you think we're doing, Quinn?" He grins. "We're dancing."

"But, I'm not really good at dancing," I tell him.

"Don't worry. You're doing fine. But, try not to step on my feet, please?" he asks, wincing. I laugh and step on his foot on purpose. "Ow!" he cries. I laugh again as he cries in pain. "You want to play dirty, huh?"

He suddenly grabs my waist tighter and tilts me to the side so I'm balancing off on foot and staring right up at his face. Finn suddenly pulls me up and twirls me.

"Finn!" I exclaim. "Stop! That wasn't funny!" I say that but I'm laughing as he dances along with me. It's actually _fun_. Suddenly, a slow song comes on. I prepare to let go but he just pulls me closer until my face is in his shoulder and both his arms are around my waist.

My cheeks redden. I've never been so close to a guy before. I smile into his shoulder. Finn is a pretty sweet guy. I dance slowly along with him but I feel like someone's watching me. I scan the room and find Rick glaring at me. Not usual glaring, like _you're-going-to-die_ glaring.

What'd I do this time?

I step back from Finn. I need to go see what's bothering him. We're supposed to be a couple. "Finn, I'll be right back, okay?"

"Don't take too long. I'll go get us a drink," Finn says, winking. I smile as I go through the crowd to where Rick is. When I reach him, his arms are crossed and he has a _very_ angry look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask him when I get close enough.

He doesn't say anything for a second but then he says, "Why are you dancing with _him_?" His voice is filled with so much disgust and hate that it surprises me.

I take a step back. "What's wrong with dancing with him?" He opens his mouth to talk but then I notice something – someone behind him. He looks familiar. _Too familiar_. I ignore Rick and chase after the man.

I hear Rick shouting at me and asking me where I'm going but I ignore him. I ignore everything. I ignore the crowd. I just run because what I'm chasing is too scary to handle. Who I'm chasing is too important. It might not even be the person I'm thinking about but I _have_ to check.

The man goes into the hallway, the door closing behind him. I run faster and open the door. But when I walk into the hallway, there's nobody there.

I stomp my foot, frustrated. I walk back into the party and notice that Richard's calling everybody because he's going to cut the cake. But I can't focus right now. I can't focus on anything.

Because that man looked exactly like my father. My _dead_ father.

* * *

><p>-s-<p>

_**Hello hello! There like I promised I would update hehe, I hope you all enjoy it because I did and the action is finally starting! Yes! Anyways, here's my gift to you. A suspense-ish filled chapter. Well, I tried. And Ooooh, Rick's jealous. LOL. What a possessive guy. Bipolar, too. I don't know why I made such a stupid character. Oh well, he's fun. Anyways, new thoughts on Finn? Lol and I enjoyed writing his part haha. He's pretty hot!**_

_**Wanna read more? Well REVIEW LIKE ALERT OR EVEN PM c:**_

_**Now I must go see you guys later and thanks for my you who review and pm me about this story it made me feel good to see all the positive comments from most of you!**_

_**BYEBYE!**_


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